


Love Is Only A Feeling

by Simoriah



Series: Wicked Game Series [2]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Kingdom of Heaven (2005) RPF, The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Domestic Violence, Drug Use, F/M, On Set, Playlist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-19 22:26:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 45
Words: 157,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Simoriah/pseuds/Simoriah
Summary: Sequel to "Wicked Game".Four years have passed, and many things have changed. Now a famous actor, Orlando is recognized around the world, and everyone wants a piece of him. Zowie’s decisions, on the other hand, have led her to the darkest places life has to offer. Not once has she forgotten why she moved to Los Angeles, but too much has happened, and she’s not the same girl she used to be. Life, however, has more surprises in store for her, and when a meeting with an old friend leads her to Orlando’s arms once again, Zowie vows to win him for once and for all. But for that she has to change her ways… and no one said that will be easy.





	1. Chapter 1

[Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/11144079858/playlist/0YXVcq2bSveOok6akeZh6N?si=fqNgtcg4REywBvoXaCp1rA)

**Chapter 1.**

_“You're in the jungle, baby..._

_and you're gonna die”_

**_Guns N' Roses – Welcome To The Jungle._ **

 

_Los Angeles, United States – November 2003._

 

Los Angeles was nothing like Zowie had ever known before. Born and raised in Wellington, not many similarities could be found between her home town and the city where she had been living for almost three years now other than the mountains that rose over the horizon. That, and the occasional earthquake, too, but all similarities ended there. Green and unpolluted, Wellington had been the perfect place to grow up with an ideal mix of urban setting and nature just around the corner.

Los Angeles, however, couldn't be any more different.

The day of her arrival, for example, Zowie had been welcomed by a layer of smog so thick it had felt like a heavy cloak on her shoulders. But of course, Zowie was still Zowie and a little smog wasn't going to ruin her plans. It was a tremendous change, yes, and many things had intimidated her at first, but Zowie was still willing to prove that all the other things she knew about California were true. Like that image movies and TV shows had nurtured, for example; the one that depicted California as the land of the ever present sun, amazing bodies, movie stars living right next door to you and the one place in the world where all your dreams could come true. An optimistic perception that soon, however, began to change as Zowie was faced with a reality she had ignored until then.

While the hot summer sun and the possibilities of a beach not too far away had indeed been real, Zowie soon discovered that most of the amazing bodies appeared solely on TV. She had yet to see a true movie star, let alone one that lived next door, and as for dreams coming true at the snap of your fingers... Zowie now knew how improbable that was.

How many people had come to LA looking for success, fame and stardom and how many of them, much like Zowie herself had seen nothing but the rough side of the city and their dreams smashed down to pieces? The phrase _“Boulevard of Broken Dreams”_ had a whole new meaning to her after almost three years in California.

It hadn't always felt that way, though. Upon arriving, nothing could have brought Zowie down; neither the long flight nor the issues she had left behind in Wellington could have put a damper on the excitement of being in a whole new place, on her own... and looking for the love of her life.

Moving to Los Angeles had definitely been the right thing to do. She loved Wellington, she loved New Zealand, but never before in her life had Zowie felt the urge of putting an entire ocean between her and her loved ones. Well, maybe not _all_ of them, but unfortunately, they had all been dragged into the same category by one single person. Heartbroken after discovering her dad had been living a double, secret life for almost as long as Zowie herself had been alive, she could not stand having him around any longer.

Yes, she had lied to him in a way her mum had found despicable in order to get the money to leave New Zealand, but Zowie had still to find a part of her that mildly regretted her actions. William had lied to them for sixteen years, what harm could one single lie coming from her do, and especially to him?

Nevertheless, it hadn't all been about William and his secrets. Of course it had played a big role in Zowie's final decision, but that wasn't all that there was to it; in the end, she had come to realise that she simply couldn't live in Wellington any more, at least not while that city held both memories so dear and so painful at the same time. Everywhere Zowie looked, everywhere she turned, memories of the sixteen months she had shared with Orlando followed her, dancing mockingly before her eyes. He wouldn't be there any more. Zowie wouldn't be able to take the bus to Seatoun and knock on the door of his house on Marine Parade like she had been used to for so long. They wouldn't go out together anymore either and what terrified her the most; Orlando would never be able to know exactly how much she loved him.

That was why she had moved to Los Angeles in the first place: to see him, to tell him all about the feelings she had kept bottled up inside her for so long. To Zowie, the way Orlando had broken her heart was of very little importance as she began her search only days after arriving in the United States. Last time they had talked, right before she left New Zealand, Orlando had mentioned he would soon go to Los Angeles, looking for ways to capitalise his experience in _Rings_. How hard could it be to find him?

She couldn't have been any more wrong.

In her joy, in her careless, teenage enthusiasm, Zowie had overlooked one tiny detail: she didn't know where to start. That complicated things, of course, but it wasn't enough to kill her hopes. She could always try to contact him through an email and ask him for his address, but what good would that make? She could _and_ would find him on her own, for she and Orlando were meant to be together. Why had they been put in the same path, then? It had to be written somewhere that, someday, Zowie would be happy by Orlando's side. Besides, how hard it could be to find the right agency, the one that managed him? She didn't know any details, but stubborn as she was, Zowie would not be easily discouraged.

Yet as days, weeks, and even months passed and her search proved fruitless, Zowie began to grow concerned. Every agency she visited, every place she went to seemed to be nothing but a dead end and no one had been able or willing to share any information with her, doing little else but casting a quick look in her direction, if at all, before sending her off with curt and some times downright rude words. She still went on, though, refusing to admit that she had come to that dreaded point in her quest when she would have to admit defeat.

Out of sheer pride, Zowie had never asked anyone for help. She could have emailed Elijah and ask for help, but she wanted to surprise Orlando by showing up at his doorstep with a huge smile knowing that he would take her in his arms and never let her go. Asking Elijah for help wouldn't only be cheating; as time passed, the emails coming and going between them had grown more and more scarce until they had stopped coming altogether. Zowie regretted witnessing the end of her friendship with Elijah, but some things were beyond her control.

However, fate had a surprise in store for her that had erased everything else from her mind. Once _“The Fellowship of the Ring”_  premiered, Orlando was everywhere. TV, magazines, they all wanted to know every single detail about his life and it was through them that Zowie found out that he had indeed moved to Los Angeles. Sure, he still went away often to shoot movies here and there, but finding him now that pretty much everyone knew who he was would be a lot easier. With renewed hopes, Zowie's search began once again. Someone had to manage Orlando and Zowie would find out who that person was even if it was the last thing she did in her life.

What she had never taken into consideration, however, was that regardless of how hard it had been before, trying to contact Orlando now that he was a celebrity would only be much, much harder. It didn't matter how many times she argued that she had known Orlando for years, that they had worked together... none of that seemed to matter to receptionists with sour looks on their faces; if anything, it only made things worst.

Pretty much laughing in her face, one by one they had discarded Zowie, some of them asking her to leave with polite words and guarded looks on their faces, others threatening to call security to get her out of the building. Zowie couldn't understand that. Couldn't they see that she wasn't just another crazy, rabid fan? Why couldn't they understand that she didn't intend to break into his house and assault him or do something equally nonsensical? Only one thought had comforted Zowie at the time and it was the image of how all those mean receptionists would have to swallow their bitterness and put a smile on their faces when she showed up arm in arm with Orlando.

But time passed. More days passed, more weeks passed and before long, Zowie had been living in Los Angeles for over a year and still there were no signs of Orlando. He was everywhere, in every magazine, every TV show and yet... he wasn't in her life. That enthusiasm, that lust for life that Zowie had felt upon arriving in California had slowly begun to disappear, leaving her cold and numb inside, her mind and body flirting with the idea of old habits that she had fought hard to avoid.

Zowie had tried to think of other things, had tried to busy herself and had even managed to do so for some time. She had been wise with her money and after renting a small studio apartment on the West Sunset Boulevard in Echo Park, she had begun looking for a job at the same time that she looked for Orlando. Sure that she would have no problem getting the kind of job that she wanted – training actors in swordfighting or, at the very least, assisting on it – Zowie had declined other offers. They had been very varied, yes, but none of them interested her. She had jogged every morning to keep fit and had practised in her apartment every afternoon to avoid getting rusty, aware that if she wanted to keep up with demanding schedules, then she would have to meet the standards.

It was out of sheer determination and the simple fact that, although living in a huge city she had no idea where to get her fix, Zowie had been able to stop the one habit that had been slowly consuming her life for some time now: drugs. It hadn't been easy. It had been painful and she had been more than willing to relapse on more than one occasion, but she was starting a new life, and she wanted to be clean and clear-minded during every second of it.

Eventually, Zowie had got the job she had been looking for: assistant coach on a TV production about Ancient Greece. It might not have been a huge endeavour like _Rings_ , but she had to start somewhere, right? Happy, excited, looking forward to a future that only seemed to get brighter and brighter, Zowie had thrown herself on her job with every bit of her energy. It didn't matter if she had to get up at 4 AM to get to the set or if she had to spend long hours under the sun – she did it all with a smile. It was great while it lasted, but it hadn't lasted long.

When that shooting ended, Zowie had been hopeful. With _Rings_ and a local production in her resume, things could only get easier. Hopeful, she had looked harder for a job, knowing that she wasn't too far away from making her dream come true: becoming a renowned swordfighting coach and finding Orlando at the same time. Two amazing things at the price of one.

She looked hard. With such motivation in mind, Zowie had turned Los Angeles upside down, a hundred percent sure she _would_ get the job she wanted. She had the experience and even a few contacts that could, eventually, help her. It _had_ to happen!

There wasn't a single ad she didn't respond to, a single interview she missed, but her determination, however, had slowly begun to falter as all her attempts were unsuccessful. Why did no one hire her? She had the experience, she had the talent! There were many things she didn't know, sure, but at nineteen, no one could expect her to know _every_ single aspect of the business, right? Zowie wanted to work, wanted to learn, and she wouldn't be able to do any of those things if no one gave her a chance.

She couldn't have possibly repressed the sadness that tinted her sigh as she walked. After a while, she had lost the count of how many resumes she had handed in, how many interviews she had attended to, but she would never forget how they all had turned out for the worse. It's not that Zowie hadn't known how to carry herself or how to channel her enthusiasm into something that made a good impression on whoever wanted to hire her, but not even all her energy and cheerfulness, spontaneity and talent could have helped in that jungle that show business was.

It was when money began to grow tight that Zowie had truly begun to worry. Her earnings from the movie hadn't been incredible but had nonetheless allowed her some freedom of action for some months, but as her financial support decreased to an alarming point, Zowie had sat down to ponder her options.

Not that there were that many to begin with, Zowie had realised after writing them all down on a piece of paper, and some of them were absolutely impractical and unreal. In the end, she had ended up narrowing the list down to three; three that raised different levels of uneasiness inside her, spanning from discomfort and slight shame to absolute and rotund disgust.

Her first option, one her heart rebelled against with all its power, was selling her necklace and earrings. A present for her 18th birthday, the diamond studs and the matching gold necklace could have provided her, if not with a fortune, with at least enough money to pay the rent. However, Zowie had banned the idea pretty much as it had entered her mind. She couldn't do it. She couldn't do that to herself _or_ her grandmothers. What would they do if they found out? Zowie would never be able to look at them in the eye if she did something like that. Back when they had been given them to her, Zowie had considered the idea of ever losing those presents as the most horrible thing that could ever happen. How could she possibly ever sell them?

With that option ruled out, Zowie had gone to the next: getting a job. Not entirely a bad idea since it was precisely that what she had been trying to do for months, but the thought of giving in if only an inch and getting a job that wasn't involved with coaching seemed dreadful to her. Still, an impatient landlord and the bills that kept piling up were a painful reminder of how dire her situation was. Zowie had tried to convince herself thinking that it would only be temporary, that she would get a job that would help her make ends meet for a while until she got _the_ job, but the idea of failure had slowly begun to creep up her skin. She had come to Los Angeles with one goal in mind and that was becoming a successful trainer. She didn't want to have to swallow her pride and admit that she had been wrong all along or that she hadn't been able to make it; she would rather starve and make her dream come true than admit defeat.

Which led to her to the third option, one that filled her with such dread and disgust it made her sick even now.

As all other options met the same end, which was dying under a thick blue line scribbled by Zowie's pen, the last one had lingered, persistent as she tried to avoid it. Why would she such thing? Zowie refused to admit defeat, would always do so for as long as there was a tiny little flicker of hope in the horizon. Why, then, would she cave in and call her family? And not to ask, but to _beg_ for some money, to top it all?

Not many things could have disgusted Zowie more than the sole thought of picking up the phone and making that long distance call. Never, for as long as she had two hands and enough reasoning to fend for herself, would she call William and ask for help. Noemie would never refuse her daughter any sort of assistance and Zowie knew better than to think so lowly of her mum. However, in order to get _any_ help from her, she knew she would have to put up with more preaching and _“I told you so'_ s than she could probably ever handle. Or that she felt like handling, anyway. She had survived that long on her own and didn't feel like being told off by her mum who was halfway around the world. The only person who wouldn't ask a single question, who would never tell her that much dreaded _“I told you so”_ was William, but as soon as the thought crossed Zowie's mind, she had rebelled against it.

Never. Not in a million years. Not even if she was starving to death and that was her only one way out. If there was any way she could avoid getting in any touch with him, then she would, like she had been doing since moving to California. That was how she felt for her father, and nothing would ever change it.

Consequently, her last option met then the exact same end the others did, leaving her with virtually nothing else to do but hibernate until she got the kind of job she wanted, or save some dignity and get a normal, nine-to-five job. It wouldn't be easy since she had no experience whatsoever, but considering the way things were, Zowie would have to learn... and fast.

Much to both her surprise and even a little disgust, Zowie had quickly found a job as a secretary in a small office not too far away from her place. It wasn't all that demanding and she hadn't needed any more skills than the ones she had graduated with, but no matter how easy it was, Zowie had never felt quite at ease there. Sure, her boss was a nice woman in her late forties who woke up on the wrong side of the bed once or twice every week, but nothing Zowie couldn't have handled. However, even though the job was easy and her boss wasn't abusive, and even though her weekly pay check did ease some of her most urgent concerns, Zowie had never quite managed to be happy there. After a few months and especially after a few interviews she hadn't been attending because she was working, Zowie had begun to experience a familiar feeling that hadn't bothered her in a long time. That pressure on her chest, that feeling that she wouldn't be able to breathe anymore... Zowie was all too familiar with it to pledge ignorance.

She didn't want to be there. She didn't want to be stuck behind a desk when she could be doing what she had come to Los Angeles to do, and feeling how her dreams slipped away between her fingers had scared her to death. How would she ever contact Orlando if she didn't move in the same circles as he did?

The critical, lowest point had caught her almost by surprise. She had been juggling with depression and the asphyxiation inside her for so long that when the enormity of the facts finally hit her, Zowie could have never fought against it. Suddenly collapsing on her apartment, reality had struck her so powerfully she had found herself completely out of breath.

What had happened to her? What had happened to her dream, to the promises of it becoming real at a snap of her fingers? The pain had slashed at her heart. She had been cheated! She had been lied to! Not having Orlando by her side, being trapped in a job she absolutely hated and being halfway around the world from all the people she knew, all of that had hurt Zowie immensely, yes, but it was nothing when compared to the sudden epiphany she had had.

She had been lied to, yes. She had been cheated, too, to make matters even worst. But despite the grief that had exploded inside her at the sole thought, Zowie hadn't been able to deny the harsh reality: she had lied to herself. In her desperation, in her need to run away from the pain, Zowie had intentionally cheated herself with promises of things that could never come true. How could she fight against that? How could she carry on normally after that? Reality was harsh and painful and tortured her with images of what might have been, of possibilities she now knew would never come to completion. Knowing she had brought it all upon herself had brought her to the edge.

Yet, no matter what she thought of her reckless, foolish actions, of the decision that had taken her to California, she was _not_ going to give in. She was _not_ going to call her parents and ask them for help or admit that she had been wrong, for doing it meant killing those little remnants of dignity that still managed to survive in her heart. If she ever went back to New Zealand, it would be on _her_ terms. Even if she turned out to be nothing as successful as she had first envisioned, Zowie would still find a way to hold her head high. No one needed to know she had failed, right? Failure... the sole concept was terrifying to Zowie. If she couldn't make it the first time she tried something, what would happen in the future? Would she always fail at everything she tried, no matter what?

Darkness had slowly begun to close in around her, coming at her from every angle but failing to numb her soul to the pain. Trapped, depressed and grief-stricken, she had only known one way out.

For a city as big as Los Angeles, Zowie had found it very hard to find the right person. Not knowing who to ask, where to look and afraid to ask the wrong person and getting in trouble, she had walked around her neighbourhood and the nearby areas in an almost desperate state. Where was a guy like Tony when she needed him? _He_ had come to her that night in Wellington, not the other way around!

Yet, as desperation coiled inside her, so did her disgust. Why was she doing it? Why couldn't she stop herself and deal with her problems like the grown woman that she was? Why did she always have to find a way out, an escape to the things that troubled her? Zowie had discovered that finding the answers to those questions meant facing the very same things she wanted to avoid. Questioning her reasons meant digging deeper than Zowie dared to and feeling as vulnerable as she did; only God knew where it would lead her.

Eventually, she had led herself to the right place. A couple of miles south from her own place on West Sunset Boulevard, Zowie had come across an abandoned apartment building. A car was parked at the corner and it didn't take much observation from Zowie to understand the mechanics of it: people approached the car discreetly, sometimes not so much, and handed what appeared to be money to whoever was inside it in exchange for something that, although she couldn't see, she had known instinctively what it was.

Zowie hadn't lingered, her thoughts focused on that first high so long ago, on the joy, the euphoria that had filled her completely. Of course that first high had never been matched, but anything would be better than dealing with the cruel reality on her own. In order to remain sane, Zowie needed to escape.

The transaction had taken almost no time and soon Zowie sat on her bed, three red pills before her. She had been clean for what, over a year? She didn't even bother counting and quickly swallowed one pill, eagerly waiting for the rush to kick in. God, yes! It felt like her first time all over again, only that this time, Zowie didn't needed the music and lights of a club to feel the joy and euphoria pumping through her veins. For a moment, everything had been perfect and in its right place again, but just like every other time, it was over much too soon.

It wasn't long before Zowie was back on her steady drug use. With no one to hide from, nothing could have stopped her, and the asphyxiation her job brought her had led her to crossing a barrier that shouldn't have been crossed: taking drugs at work. A crossing that Sandy, her boss, didn't approve of.

Sandy was quite an easy going person. She had helped Zowie on more than one occasion but had zero tolerance for the path the younger girl's life had taken. She had looked past her incompetence and sloppiness for some time, but the minute she had realised exactly what was going on, she did not hesitate for a second before kicking her out. Intoxicated as she was, it had taken Zowie some time to understand what was truly going on. Unemployed and with absolutely no real prospects of anything good happening soon, Zowie had found herself teetering on the edge. The way she had been ever since.

Zowie tried to push those thoughts aside, but as she walked, she couldn't repress the shiver that ran down her spine. Even if she didn't remember much, even if her memories were hazed by the drugs, Zowie still remembered having to leave her apartment and the rough times that had followed. Now, as she neared the place she had called home for over a year, Zowie felt her determination growing in her heart. She would _not_ think of the past. She wouldn't dwell on what ifs and what might have been. She had made her decision and she had to stick to it. She had never been as far away from making her dream come true as she was in that instant, but she had learned to live with the idea.

With a sigh, Zowie entered the modest apartment block with its red brick fronting and narrow mirrors all over its four floors, barely sparing a quick glance at the tall skyscrapers that made the Los Angeles skyline a couple of miles away. A picture of success, they painted a bitter reminder of her own failure, and Zowie avoided breaching the barrier that the Harbor Freeway represented if she could help it. She seldom closed the freeway, choosing to remain in a neighbourhood full of stories such as hers instead of having the success of others rubbed on her face.

Turning her back on the sight, she headed for the external stairs and slowly climbed to the first floor. Taking her keys from her back pocket, she slowly entered the apartment, her eyes scanning the place with an almost detached feeling. Yes, this was the place where she lived, but it had never felt like home. Clothes were scattered here and there in the main room and Zowie didn't need to take a look at the fridge to know that it was, most likely, empty. But she didn't care, and as far as she could see, neither did her room-mate. Zowie sighed. What was the point in bothering? She was already coming up with an answer to that when a voice, low and raspy, touched her ears from behind.

“Hey, baby.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2.**

 

_“You've been standing on the edge_

_lost between the worlds of agony and ecstasy”_

**_Avantasia – I Don't Believe In Your Love_ **

 

A pair of arms encircled her waist and Zowie closed her eyes. Did she feel relieved? Did the contact disgust her, did it please her? She dodged the questions as expertly as she avoided introspection.

“You're back,” the voice said as the arms pulled her close. “Where were you?”

Zowie shrugged non-committally.

“Out for a walk, that's all. It's warm outside.”

The arms left her almost as quickly as they had embraced her and an instant later, Zowie turned on her heels to face her room-mate.

Her boyfriend.

Matt Hudson had entered Zowie's life at its lowest point, when unemployed and trapped in the web of her addiction she hadn't known where to turn, and when the tolerance she had developed to the pills had made them useless to numb the anger, the frustration and the sheer sadness that chilled her heart. _“Need some good shit? Deal with The Angel,”_   someone had told her. And Zowie had followed the advice.

There had been some questions about such nickname at the time, but they were erased the moment she  met him. With blond hair that brushed his shoulders, intense blue eyes and a square, handsome, and  masculine face, the name _The Angel_ suited Matt perfectly. Four years older than Zowie herself, nothing in his appearance could have hinted at the dangerous business he was a part of... or the danger that simmered under his skin. That day, Matt had smiled genuinely at Zowie before giving her a subtle appreciative look that even her hazed mind couldn't miss. He _liked_ her, Zowie had realised back then, and for someone who had seen herself rejected in one fashion or another over and over again, that certainty had brought unexpected feelings to life inside her.

It had been so easy to encourage him! Matt had been attentive, nice and to make things even better, he provided her with the drugs she needed to keep her demons at bay. He was interested in her, he listened to her, and even had little details no one else had. And Zowie, who had always been sure that she would always get what she wanted, had found herself living on those little tokens of attention that Matt fed her regularly as if her life depended on it, clinging to him as the one person that she could, seemingly, keep by her side. With her moving in with him when she was kicked out of her apartment, the transition from a simple friendship to a true relationship had been a matter of days and that was why, after a year and four months, Zowie and Matt were still drawn together by feelings and needs that went beyond those of a normal relationship.

Who in their right mind would put two addicts together in a relationship of any kind? Zowie and Matt had found each other nonetheless, sharing a bond as unstable and dangerous as their personalities, but still a bond none of them wanted out of. They shared more things than anyone could imagine, things that kept them together and that gave them some common ground to put the blame on as to how their lives had turned out.

On one hand, Zowie came from a life built on a lie, from having her foundations shaken to their very core and from losing the one person who seemed to remotely care about her. Matt, on the other hand, had been brought up by a physically abusive father and a passive mother who did nothing to stop the way her husband beat up their child, often for no reason at all, in order to keep the appearances. How couldn't their respective pasts _not_ bring them together like a magnet? To anyone who spared them a glance as they passed by, Zowie and Matt would seem nothing but a very attractive couple: a beautiful girl and a handsome guy that had, naturally and obviously, paired up. A match made in heaven, they would say. However, no one could truly see the hell that burnt inside them.

Scarred, lacerated, beaten up, cheated... that was how Matt and Zowie were on the inside. Lies, secrets, violence, they all had marked their lives. They were as torn in the inside as beautiful they were on the outside and those two similar characters, those two similar histories had ended up together in a relationship fed by both resentment and drugs. A part of her, one that remained coherent even after over a year of steady drug taking, realised how unhealthy that was, but Zowie never allowed it to reach the surface of her mind. Other than where to get her next fix, and her source was usually Matt, Zowie put all her effort on not thinking of anything that could break the fragile, unstable balance she lived on.

What had Matt seen in her that first time other than her body? She often wondered that, for Zowie knew exactly what it was that had attracted her to him in the first place.

Beyond his handsome looks, there was a need gnawing at Zowie's heart that was only satisfied when Matt was around. She needed to believe that she was still worth something, that she wasn't as broken and flawed as she felt, and that there was someone out there who could indeed love her the way Orlando didn't bring himself up to admit... someone she could try and do the same for in return. She had been so lonely, so lost, in such need of love, affection and understanding, that she held on to the one person who offered her if only a hint of them.

Zowie would probably never know what it was that Matt had truly seen in her that day long ago, but as he stared at her, at her guarded and hazed eyes, he did it clearly. Zowie was a beautiful girl he had wanted by his side from the very beginning, and while she had been evasive at first, it hadn't taken long for him to earn her trust. That self-assurance and control she had cloaked herself with had cracked at the smallest hint of interest in her situation and before long; Matt had Zowie eating from his hand.

There was no losing on having Zowie by his side, Matt had realised straight away. Both a pretty girl many of his _associates_ in the drug dealing business admired and a captive client, she was exactly what Matt wanted: a puppet he could control. She was his, and whether bound to him by drugs or deeper feelings, he didn't know, but Matt knew that as long as he could provide her with her fix, Zowie would be by his side. God help her if she ever tried to leave him, though, for his own darkness, the one that matched Zowie's felt murderous at the sole thought.

Did Zowie love Matt? She stared at him as he stood before her wearing nothing but a pair of jeans that rode low on his hips, not noticing the dark look that had taken over his eyes. He was attractive, yes, but no matter how much, there were still times when she closed her eyes and pretended it was someone else sitting beside her or sharing the bed with her. Someone who was miles and miles away, living the life he had always dreamed of and who had no idea whatsoever what had been of her. That she still looked for him every time she left the house.

She gave Matt a hint of a smile. She needed him and he needed her, and in their unstable, screwed-up way, that was the right way to live and Zowie didn't question it, just like she didn't question many other things in her life.

Collapsing on the ratty sofa by the window, Zowie felt her stomach growling as she carefully avoided the sight of the LA skyline outside.

“Is there anything to eat?” She asked and Matt gave her a puzzled look.

“I thought that was why you were out. I mean, that you'd bring something.”

Zowie looked up at him.

“Well, you said you'd bring something yesterday,” she pointed out. “Did you?”

“Does it look like I did?”

There was a sharp edge to Matt's tone, one that Zowie was very familiar with. Instability was an addict's most prominent personal treat and Matt, especially, could go from charming to raging in the blink of an eye.

“Matt...”

Zowie tried to reason with him, but he obviously wasn't in the mood for it. She couldn't explain him how the barrier that kept her past in check was beginning to crack and how that certainty had prompted her to leave, to put some distance and clear her mind before she drove herself mad. She also didn't want to point out that she seldom carried any money with her, that he was the one with it. _He_ was the one with a job, no matter how illegal and Zowie depended entirely on him.

“Zowie...”

There was a barely concealed threat in Matt's low voice, one that made Zowie shift uncomfortably in her seat.

“I'm sorry,” she murmured. “I just... I never stopped to think about it. Besides, I didn't have any money, and...” her voice trailed off, loaded with uncertainty and fearing the outcome of her forgetfulness.

Long, torturing seconds were spent in an uncomfortable silence as Zowie's heart thumped in her chest and a mix of fear and dread brought a shadow to her wide blue eyes. Her hand gripped the arm of the sofa so hard, her knuckles turned white and her fingers hurt, the feverish glow in Matt's blue eyes making her insides flutter with uneasiness. Only when he took a deep breath and his tense body began to relax did Zowie allow herself a sigh of relief.

“I'll get something later.”

His words were curt, but Zowie ignored it as she clenched and unclenched the fingers of the hand that had gripped the sofa's arm. The storm was gone and as the air began to clear between them, Zowie even managed to sketch the tiniest hint of a smile, one that got Matt smiling as well. As he approached her, Zowie asked the question that had been in the back of her mind ever since entering the apartment.

“Got anything left?”

Matt didn't ask a single question. Simply reaching into his back pocket, he produced a small packet and offered Zowie a pill she accepted eagerly. She swallowed it without hesitation, closing her eyes and leaning her head back on the couch as she anxiously waited for it to kick in. She needed that oblivion; she desperately needed that way out from the thoughts that had been bothering her all morning.

Zowie was so lost looking for the first signs of the bliss the pill promised that Matt's kiss took her completely by surprise. The shock didn't last long, though; completely uninhibited as the drug filtered in her system, her hands met Matt's naked chest, clinging to his arms. She needed to forget and she needed to feel loved, and Matt was the one to offer her both so she welcomed his bold touch, letting herself go.

She wouldn't think; she would stop doing so and she would enjoy. Once the effects of the drug died down, _then_ she would begin to worry. Now she would focus solely on her need to be next to another human being, one that validated her as such and as a woman. Did Matt love her? Zowie didn't know. Did _she_ love Matt? Zowie was even more uncertain about it. But if he was the one that could, albeit briefly, make her forget all that was wrong in her life, and then she would. No matter what little pleasure she got from their union.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3.**

 

 _“I'm torn and tattered,_  
_shattered and worn._  
 _I've had enough_  
 _trying to live my life_  
 _in the eye of the storm..._  
 _Every heartache_  
 _leaves a scar on my face._  
 _Somebody reach out_  
 _or throw me a line,_  
 _get me out of this place...”_

**_Whitesnake – Restless Heart_ **

The sun that made Zowie squint also made her mutter a curse under her breath the minute she set foot on the sidewalk. Her head throbbed angrily and she was sure it was punishing her for exposing herself to such brightness, so she huffed in frustration. The idea of going back in did cross her mind, but the hunger that rumbled loudly in her stomach pushed her to go on. It was obvious that no one else would get the groceries, and if Zowie wanted to avoid a repeat of the scene in the apartment, then she would have to do it herself. That sole thought prompted her to go on.

This wasn't the normal way to live. Something inside her knew it and repeatedly told her so, but Zowie refused to acknowledge what had become of her life, knowing she would get nothing out of it. She needed a place to live and she needed the drugs, and if in order to get both she had to look past Matt's darker side, then she would, even if her survival instinct begged her to do otherwise.

There was an inherent danger to Matt's _job_ that Zowie couldn't ignore. They lived in Westlake, less than three miles away from downtown Los Angeles', and not just that, every other apartment in their building was taken. It didn't matter that their neighbours were used to the parade of shady characters in their streets; if they did as much as pay a little more attention to the couple, putting two and two together wouldn't be hard at all. If they hadn't already.

What would be of them if Matt got caught? His possible answer to that question came easily to Zowie's mind: his parents would most likely let him rot in jail. There had been only one person in Matt's past that had cared about him enough to take him in when he had ran away from his parents' home at sixteen, that had loved him enough to try and help him with his addiction: Abigail Hudson, his grandmother. She had gone as far as leaving Matt her apartment when she died hoping the responsibility would help him straighten himself out, that it would offer him the stability he so desperately needed. But with Abigail, Matt's anchor, gone from his life forever... Zowie shook her head. If only the lady knew the things that now happened in her once beloved and well-cared-for home...

But what about her? Her mind urged the thought forward. If Matt went to jail, would someone contact her family to let them know she was in trouble with the law in a foreign country? Would they tell them about her addictions and what she had come to? The thought made her shiver despite the warm sun that burnt in the cloudless sky. Zowie had gone to such extents to hide her addiction from her family that she dreaded the idea of having to talk about it – and many other things – with them. They would never understand, just like they would never understand their own role in her issues. Zowie remembered Noemie's shock when she had told her she wanted to take a gap year so long ago and a sardonic yet very sad smile tugged at her lips. What would her mum think of her _now?_ Would finding out that her daughter was an addict be the worst she had always expected from her?

Zowie's eyes skimmed over the now very familiar surroundings of South Union Avenue as a depressed sigh left her lips. What was it about that day that she simply couldn't stop feeling sorry about herself, couldn't stop thinking about the people from her past? The sight of the football pitch belonging to a nearby middle school only served to increase her melancholy. That part of her was gone, long gone, and it was time she got over it and began to deal with reality the best way she knew how: avoiding it with the help of drugs.

Trying carefully to keep her mind empty of all thought, Zowie took West 7th Street and focused solely on what step to take next so it would lead her to the small supermarket nearby, her eyes fixed on the cracked sidewalk. She had no idea what time of the day it was, but the position of the sun, high in the sky, told her it had to be around midday. Her stomach rumbled at the thought.

When was the last time she had eaten? Zowie frowned in her effort but the answer escaped her. There was a memory, a hazy one that told her she had eaten something the day before, but that had yet to do it that day and since all normality had long since vanished, Zowie failed to be surprised at the discovery. The pills usually suppressed her appetite and most of the times, once the effects ran out, she either felt too tired or her body ached too much to even think of moving, let alone eating. That wasn't the case that day, obviously, and although her muscles did complain some, the hunger was still there, biting at her stomach with angry pangs.

Zowie kept on walking, lost in her musings. The cracks creating spiderweb-like patterns on the sidewalk held her undivided attention, and when a body hit her squarely on her left arm, it did it with enough force to make her lose her balance. With her hands in her pockets and her reflexes numbed by the drugs, Zowie's body tilted backwards. A little yelp escaped her lips and although she did manage to free her hands, there was no stopping the unavoidable fall until a pair of strong hands grabbed her by the arms. Embarrassed, and feeling much too uncomfortable by the proximity of the stranger, Zowie struggled to free herself from that strong grip that made her arms hurt.

“Let go of me, you idiot! Can't you see where you're going?”

The anger and aggravation inside her grew with every word she pronounced, and while Zowie was ready to pounce on her victim with every bit of the aggressiveness the drugs awoke in her, she wasn't in any way prepared to meet a very familiar face staring incredulously at her.

“Geoff?”

Hadn't Zowie been half as shocked as she was, she could have probably found the stunned expression on the grown man's face amusing. His brown eyes were wide and her lips formed a silent O, but Zowie failed to find the hilarity in that; the coldness that slowly crept up her spine stopped her from doing so and her mind, usually under the stupor of the drugs, began to work at a speed it hadn't experienced in ages.

Geoff. Geoff was in Los Angeles. He was in the same country, the same state, hell, even the same _city_ as her!

What was he doing there? Zowie knew she hadn't been exactly up to date with the latest gossip, but last thing she knew, Geoff was still in Wellington, still working with... her mind suddenly whirled at a pace that made her dizzy. Geoff worked with her dad, but he was in Los Angeles, and the thought sent prickles of fear up and down her spine. Did that mean William was there too? Zowie threw a scared glance around, fearful of what she would see.

“Zowie?” Geoff's voice echoed the astonishment in his expression. Unconsciously gripping her arms a bit tighter in a way that made Zowie grit her teeth, he pulled her close, as if still not believing his own eyes. “Is that you? Good God, I don't believe it!” Before Zowie could even part her lips to answer, Geoff had taken her in his arms in a tight hug she couldn't have possibly escaped from.

Fear quickly stomped its way into her heart. Geoff couldn't be there. His sole presence brought old pains and sorrows back to life with a vengeance, but above all, it smothered her with terror. He _couldn't_ find out anything about her or her life. If he did, it would be a complete disaster.

“Yeah, it's-it's me,” Zowie finally stammered, her voice laden with uncertainty as she struggled to understand the implications of that event. Geoff's presence changed everything, and drastically at that, and the sense of safety that having an ocean between her and everyone she knew had put in her heart had been shattered. Nothing was safe anymore, and it scared her to death. “What are you doing here?” She finally asked. Then, incapable of holding herself back any longer, she added. “Are you... umm... alone?”

Geoff smiled, unaware of the trembling in Zowie's voice and of the turmoil his sole presence had unleashed inside her.

“I work here, Zowie.” Geoff said, his brown eyes dancing with joy and surprise. “I moved to Los Angeles little over a year ago. I tried to contact you as soon as I got here but I was never able to. But how are _you_ doing?” He asked enthusiastically. “It's been so long, Zowie... when was the last time we saw each other?”

Zowie felt sick. Couldn't Geoff just answer her question and get over with it? She wasn't interested on exchanging pleasantries; in fact, all she wanted to do was go home, lock herself up and not come out until she had found a way to move to the opposite end of the country to a place where she knew for sure that these kind of _surprises_ wouldn't happen anymore. If she had to face the one person she had been avoiding for years, Zowie would break down, and she couldn't allow that.

“I can't remember, really.” She muttered as an answer. And it was true. When was the last time she had seen Geoff? At the _Rings'_ wrap-up party? If she had, she had been much too focused on spending every possible minute with Orlando to care about someone she saw every day like Geoff. Still needing to know what she was facing, Zowie insisted. “Are you here on you're own, Geoff? I mean... right now?”

Finally, Zowie's words seemed to make it through Geoff's shock, and with a shrug, he answered,

“Yes, I'm alone. I moved here on my own, and I still am. I was on my way to meet someone and-” He stopped himself mid-sentence and then smiled conspiratorially. “What do you say we have a cup of coffee together? I saw a nice café a few of streets away, a great place to catch up.” There must have been a glow of hesitation in her eyes, for his own took on a determined edge. “I won't take no for an answer, Zow. It's been too long and a lot has happened.”

Zowie tried to read a possible secret message behind his words, but gave up after a few instants; her head was pounding so hard it was beginning to make her sick. Would it work if she tried to talk herself out of it?

“I can't, Geoff... there are some things I need to do and...”

Geoff didn't need to say a word for Zowie to understand that there was no way out of it for her. Trying to run away meant attracting more attention on herself, and that was something she couldn't allow. He familiarly smoothed his hands up and down her arms like he had done a thousand times before, but it was a gesture that now made her frown with discomfort before she sighed with defeat. She didn't want to do that, she didn't want to answer questions, but refusing would only be worse.

“Okay, Geoff.” Zowie finally agreed with a sigh. “I'll go with you.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4.**

 

The café was a lovely place. Small, cozy and full of lively colours and lovely scents, Geoff couldn't have possibly picked a better place to have a nice chat and catch up with an old friend. Zowie, however, felt more uneasy by the second. Forced to break her one golden rule, Zowie had reluctantly crossed that imaginary border that the Harbor Freeway represented in her mind to now sit at a place that weighed down on her oppressively.

Just looking around made her feel uncomfortable. Everyone looked their best, mindful of their appearances, but it wasn't until her eyes fell on two girls about her age sitting a couple of tables to their left that Zowie truly began to feel self-conscious. Their perfectly groomed hair and clothes were a painful contrast to Zowie's old sweater and long, dishevelled hair, and ice began to form around her heart at the sight. That was how she was supposed to be, Zowie realised. Hadn't she lost herself in the web of her addiction, Zowie too would have probably looked her best right now.

That was why she never crossed the Freeway, she realised. Because it reminded her of all that she had lost. Of how badly she had failed.

Zowie felt trapped, but the worst part was knowing that the drilling had yet to begin. A waitress came and deposited two coffee cups and two bagels on their table, and although the coffee's inviting scent tickled her nostrils and the bagel looked absolutely delicious, the sole thought of eating made her feel sick. She didn't want to be there! When Geoff smiled and Zowie saw herself compelled to smile back, she had to control the urge of bolting up and running away.

“So, Zowie. Tell me all about it.” Geoff said and Zowie stole a quick look around. She briefly considered arguing about the place's lack of privacy, but the certainty that Geoff would do his best to find another place to talk kept her mouth shut.

Still trying to gain some time as her mind tried to come up with the right answers to the questions that would surely come, Zowie tried to distract him.

“About what?” She asked, trying to earn herself more time. Adding sugar to her coffee, she deliberately stirred it for the longest time, if only to avoid his inquisitive eyes.

“Everything. How you're doing, what you've been up to... all of it. It's been a long time, Zowie. I haven't heard from you since _Rings_ ended.” A knot twisted Zowie's stomach at those words. “I was surprised when your dad told me you had moved to America. What brought you here, girl? And when did you arrive?”

It amazed Zowie how one person could ask so many wrong questions in just one breath, but it also unsettled her beyond belief. She had always liked Geoff; he was an easy person to get along with and after knowing each other for such a long time, they had as much of a friendship as Zowie could have with a man that could have been her dad. In that precise instant, however, she hated him, and she would have given what little she possessed to be somewhere else instead of answering his curious questions.

Her dad, why she had moved, what she had been up to... Zowie shivered inwardly. Those were all topics she didn't want to cover. She could have made small, uncompromising talk for the whole afternoon, but that... that she had no idea how to deal with.

“I... well... not a lot, really.” She said, and when Geoff gave her a confused look, she rushed to add. “I haven't been up to a lot.”

Her answer was clearly not enough for him and he prodded on, wanting her to elaborate.

“Feeling shy, Zowie? Now this is something I never thought I'd see!” Geoff smiled at his own joke and Zowie, although she intended to imitate his gesture, ended up sketching a grimace instead. “Come on, I'm sure there's a lot to be told. When did you move here? Your dad told me you came here to work, but he didn't say much else.”

Zowie drew in a shaky breath, willing the sudden heaviness in her chest to go away before she gave Geoff even more to think about. Matt and his instability, she knew how to handle, but this unknown that unravelled before her? It scared her to death.

Where to begin so it all ended as quickly as possible? If she couldn't avoid Geoff, then the one thing left to do was try and satisfy his curiosity without giving too much away.

“I moved here almost three years ago.” Zowie finally said. “And yes, I did come for work.” Was it obvious that she didn't feel inclined to elaborate? And that she was trying to avoid the topic as much as she could? If Geoff thought so, he didn't show it. Trying to turn the attention back on him, she added. “But what about you? You said you moved here, what, a year ago?”

Geoff nodded.

“Give or take, yes. I've been working non-stop ever since.”

Zowie nodded, willing him to carry on.

“Really? That's great.” She said, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “What are you doing?”

“What I did in back in New Zealand. I've been training actors for movies.”

As soon as Geoff spoke those words, the world halted around Zowie and her heart, stopping for what seemed an eternity, soon began thumping heavily again, the pumping of blood almost deafening in her ears.

Had she heard right? Had her ears tricked her? Zowie could barely believe it. Had Geoff just said he was training actors? Her mouth went dry as the most varied emotions crashed within her.

Why? Why _him_ , and not her? What did Geoff have that she didn't? Zowie's chest began to heave. Never in her entire life had she felt more frustrated or angry at the world than she did in that instant. It was so unfair, so damn unfair! She was just as talented and capable, perhaps even more so, than Geoff. She had been training from an early age and sword fighting held absolutely no secrets for her. Was it her age that played against her, or was it the fact that she was a woman? Zowie didn't know, but her frustration at knowing that this guy had got the job she had always wanted almost made her ballistic.

“Really?” She asked sharply, more out of courtesy than honest curiosity. Then, as if some masochistic entity had taken over her, she added. “Was it hard for you get those jobs?”

“Not really,” Geoff answered and at those words, Zowie fisted her hands under the table, her nails digging into her skin so deeply, they left tiny half moon shaped marks there. “I got my first job right after I got here and it picked up from there. In fact, I'm travelling to Europe in a couple of months. Big, big project,” he explained, taking a bite of his bagel. “I'm very excited about it.”

Zowie smiled, but she was sure it was the coldest, phoniest smile anyone had ever emitted. Did it look like she wanted to share his joy, when he had probably been the one she had lost all her job interviews to? Absolutely not. Why didn't she stand up and left in that instant, Zowie would never know.

“But we haven't stopped talking about me.” Geoff scolded her suddenly with a light tone. “What about you? What do you do for a living?”

Zowie gritted her teeth. Accepting his invitation had been a bad, bad idea.

“I'm taking some time off at the moment. Trying to decide what to do next.”

Curt and sharp, Zowie's answer prompted a concerned look from Geoff. Did she really think she was doing a good job of hiding her emotions? Uneasiness had been radiating from her ever since he had laid eyes on her, and it had only intensified after he mentioned his job, turning Zowie's eyes into a stormy shade of blue.

Anxiety bit at Geoff's insides at that. This Zowie who sat before him... it wasn't the same girl he used to know. Years had passed, yes, but her change wasn't a consequence to the mere passing of time. Something entirely different was in action here, something he couldn't quite put his finger on, and it drove him insane.

What had William told him when mentioning Zowie's move to Los Angeles? That he feared that becoming a sword fighting coach wasn't the sole motivation behind that decision. That he feared that his daughter, besotted with Orlando, had decided to follow him. Zowie's feelings had never been a secret but as he looked at her, Geoff doubted her sole infatuation with Orlando had prompted such change in her.

Zowie had always been thin; a sporty, strong, healthy kind of thin. Now, however, it was obvious just by looking at her how much weight she had lost. She wasn't skin and bones yet, but Geoff realised with a shiver that she might as well be well on her way. Her face, for example, was enough to set an alarm off in his mind. While it lacked the softness it had once had in a way that made her stubborn jawline painfully notorious, it was her eyes what scared Geoff the most. Once bright, smart and attentive, Zowie's blue eyes now look haunted and lifeless, much too big for her thin face. He couldn't see her body in her baggy clothes, but he would never forget the feeling of the thin, frail arms he had held in the street.

What would William and Noemie do if they saw Zowie in that instant? She looked dishevelled, as if she hadn't taken care of her appearance in a long, long time, and while her clothes were clean, it was obvious they had seen better days a long time ago. And not just that, they also covered her entirely, something very unusual for a sun-loving creature such as Zowie. What was going on there? Something about her screamed at him for help and that was a voice he couldn't deafen himself to.

“Have you tried your bagel?” Geoff prompted her. “It's really good. The best one I've had in a while.”

Zowie took a deep breath. Her stomach rebelled against the thought, but not wanting to attract any more unwanted attention on herself, she tore a piece of the bagel and took it to her mouth.

“It's really good.” She echoed, although the bagel tasted like sand in her mouth.

Wanting to prod her some more and see how much information he got, Geoff carried on.

“How are your parents? Have you talked to them lately?”

Zowie almost chocked. It would be impossible for her to forget the last time she had talked to William in Wellington's airport, but no matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn't recall when was the last time she had heard Noemie's voice.

“Some time ago,” she lied. “I'm in contact with them through emails, mostly. With Jared, especially.”

That, for once, was true. It had been a long time, probably months, since she had last sent her brother an email, but she did drop him a line every once in a while, even if she hated herself afterwards for disturbing him and distracting him from his law studies. Jared should be enjoying himself, not worrying about his sister!

“That's good.” Geoff said, although he could perceive Zowie's purposeful vagueness. “Perhaps I could visit you one of these days and catch up some more? Do some sparring, even, for the old times' sake?”

When Zowie looked up at him, Geoff's heart skipped a beat. Dark and wide, her eyes had suddenly come to life with an alarm that puzzled him. What had Zowie heard in his words that had affected her so much? That he wanted to visit her? That one look proved his suspicions right. There was something that Zowie didn't want him to see, and Geoff felt the urge of pulling strongly at this thread offered at him, wanting with all his heart to unravel the mystery.

Almost magically, Zowie's discomfort had vanished. It had been replaced, however, by true and sheer fear the moment Geoff mentioned wanting to visit her. That couldn't happen! She hadn't worked so hard to keep her reality a secret to have him waltz into her life as freely as he wanted to!

“Maybe, yes.” She conceded, although she knew in her heart that she would rather die than letting that happen. Then, before Geoff could even come up with another question, Zowie threw a quick glance at the clock on the wall behind him and put on a surprised face. “Oh my God, look at the time! I'm so sorry, Geoff, but I've got to go.” She said, standing up to reinforce her words. “I've got a lot of things to do and I'm running late and...”

“Oh, it's okay, I understand.” Geoff said, interrupting her tirade just as Zowie began to run out of excuses. However, he took her hand in his before she could run away “Why don't you give me your number?” He asked, producing a phone from his back pocket. “So I know where to contact you. You don't expect me to walk around this area and wait until we walk into each other again, right?”

Zowie knew Geoff had intended those words as a joke, but she couldn't help but feel a hint of a threat there; at least, a threat to the life she had been leading. If she wanted to keep that secret, then Geoff walking around her neighbourhood was out of the question.

“I don't have a cell right now.” Technically, Zowie wasn't lying, but she still felt uneasy. She did have a phone somewhere, but she hadn't used it in ages and she doubted it even worked anymore.

“It's okay. Is there a number where I can contact you, anyway?” Geoff pressed on.

Zowie felt trapped. Not giving Geoff a number meant opening the door for his curiosity to wander freely, and that was something she wanted to avoid at all costs. It was then that her old phone suddenly came to mind. Even if it didn't work, it could still help her in two different ways: it would offer Geoff a number where to contact her and, if it truly didn't work, then it would give her an excuse for not answering his call. Digging deeply in her memory, she managed to unearth the number, which she dutifully recited to Geoff as he added it to his phone's contact list. She was about to run away when he slipped a business card in her hand.

“This is my number, Zow.” He said. “Call me any time. Whenever you need me, just do it, okay?”

Why did Zowie feel that, after only a short conversation, Geoff knew exactly what was going on? The idea filled her with fear, a fear that prompted her to run away after a quick thank you. She walked at a normal pace until she knew Geoff couldn't see her anymore, but once she was sure she was out of sight, Zowie collapsed against the nearest wall, her chest heaving as she held her throbbing head in her hands. What was Geoff doing there? Why him, why now? She had a million questions in her mind, and only one certainty: that whatever that meeting meant, it couldn't be good for her. Not at all.


	5. Chapter 5

# Chapter 5.

 

There was no way around it. No matter how hard he tried to think of something else, how he tried to go over things he knew he needed to do, nothing worked, and all Geoff could think of was Zowie.

Over and over he tried to work his head around what he had seen, but he failed to understand it every single time. What had happened to Zowie? She had seemed fine the last time Geoff had seen her in New Zealand, but what had happened there had obviously left a mark in her more powerful and permanent than anyone had imagined. He remembered trying to talk to her after William's lie had been discovered, but she had refused adamantly, claiming there was nothing to discuss there.

He should have persisted, he realised now. What kind of pain had Zowie gone through? Jared had been devastated after finding that card, but Zowie... Zowie had worshipped her dad. She had looked up to him, had thought he could possibly do no wrong. But he had, and it had brought his daughter to the point she was now.

Geoff might have been friends with William for years, but that didn't mean he approved everything his friend did. Like William's double life, for example, something Geoff had known nothing about until it was unveiled. Why, after so many years had that true seen the light precisely in that moment? If William had worked so hard to keep it a secret for so long, how come he had left such evidence in his car where anyone could find it? Did he intend for that to happen? Geoff despised such possibility for his friend's carelessness, whether intentional or not, had cost the Hart kids more heartbreak than they were prepared to handle.

In the end, Jared had recovered. Still shaken to the very core, but trying to cope, he had managed to patch things up with William after some time. God knew the poor boy still suffered, something Geoff, whose own parents had divorced when he was young, could relate to better than anyone, but Jared had still carried on. He was in Auckland now, studying to become a lawyer.

But Zowie... she obviously hadn't. She had never been able to forgive William and, in a way, Geoff understood her. She had been the apple of William's eye, had had him wrapped around her little finger from the minute she was born. She had trusted him completely, and her dad had spat on that when he admitted having a secret family. How couldn't Zowie not suffer the most by what had happened?

Even if he wasn't around when Zowie decided to leave, it wasn't hard for Geoff to imagine how much of her decision had been prompted by her wish to punish her father. She did have a very good cover-up story, though, one that even made perfect sense; after all, if there was one person out there Geoff knew had the talent to become a professional sword fighting coach that was Zowie. But had that really been the only reason behind her travelling to California? William had voiced those same concerns right before Geoff left New Zealand. Hadn't they heard Orlando would move to Los Angeles to pursue his blossoming acting career? The sole idea that his daughter could be moving halfway around the world just to be near that man had unsettled William greatly.

Geoff sighed with defeat when he realised the complexity of his task. On one hand, there was the sword fighting factor, one that couldn't be ruled out if the jealous look that had crossed Zowie's face at the sole mention of his job was taken into consideration. But there was another factor, one Geoff dared to think was just as strong as the previous one.

Orlando.

Had Zowie's feelings for him been strong enough to have her moving to Los Angeles after him? She had certainly been smitten with him from the very beginning, and Geoff wouldn't be surprised if the idea of being near him had overpowered everything else in her mind. Did she still feel the same for him? And what would she do when she found out Geoff would be working with Orlando soon?

But it didn't end there; those two reasons couldn't be the only ones. Something had altered Zowie. Something had shaken her to the very core and had left her in the state she was in. She seemed defeated, her spirit gone; a scary concept for someone as strong-minded as Zowie. What could have caused that? What could have possibly been so serious, so drastic, that the spark in her eyes had been replaced by a dull shadow that seemed eerily comfortable there? Zowie looked as if she had given up fighting a long time ago, as if nothing in the world could ever set the spark inside her alight anymore.

What could he do about it? The longer he thought about her, the more worried Geoff grew. The girl who had sat before him in that café? She was nothing but a pale shadow to the Zowie he had once known. The light, the energy that had once surrounded her didn't exist anymore and the outgoing, confident girl had vanished behind someone jittery, someone whose eyes kept darting all over the place looking for an escape. Despite his fears, Geoff felt a flicker of hope burning inside him. He had the feeling that he had found Zowie at the right time, and when her face floated in his mind, that sensation intensified.

She was worryingly thin. There was no softness in Zowie's face anymore, all of it replaced by sharp angles and taut skin that made her features all the more prominent. However, there was no telling the true extent of her weight loss, not with those oversized clothes that only added to Geoff's overall concern. Zowie, with old clothes that were much too big for her, clothes that hid her from the sun so completely? That wasn't the girl he knew, and the thought that she could be hiding something serious under those clothes filled him with fear. Her arms had felt much too thin and fragile and she had barely touched her bagel. What was going on there? What was Zowie hiding?

And there sure was a lot more than he had first imagined. Last time Geoff had talked to William, his friend had shared what was probably his biggest concern regarding Zowie: how she had slowly lost almost all contact with her family. While at first she had dutifully written to Noemie, Jared or Jewell at least two or three emails each week, those emails had grown more scarce to the point of stopping almost altogether. The sole exception was the occasional, non-committal lines she dropped Jared every once in a while, the ones that let them know she was still alive. Her parents had considered flying to Los Angeles, but where would they start looking? The city was much too big for an endeavour like that, and as far as they knew, Zowie could be anywhere in the country while still pretending to be in California.

Geoff sighed. Zowie was hiding something, something much bigger than a simple grudge with her family. She might have wanted to punish her parents, but throw her siblings in as well? That was beginning to have consequences Zowie surely didn't even imagine. Jared would always be loyal to her, for it was in his nature to be by his loved ones when they needed him the most, but Jewell.... Jewell was a completely different story. Hanging on Zowie's every email at the beginning; she now refused to mention her sister's name  resenting the attention Zowie got from everyone. What was left of it for her, then? At seventeen, Jewell now deemed it unnecessarily to worry so much about someone who didn't reciprocate, her feelings growing closer and closer to hatred. What would Zowie do about it if she ever went back to New Zealand?

Would she ever go back to her roots, though? This wasn't a matter of her wanting to make a living elsewhere; something much bigger was in action here, and out of the hundreds of questions that plagued Geoff's mind, only one thing was clear: Zowie needed help. However, if he knew her enough, and Geoff did, she would never ask for it, and Geoff, suddenly afraid, realised he couldn't let that happen. What if she finally did it when it was much too late?

Geoff had to repress a shiver. He needed to offer her his help, but he couldn't do it openly. He couldn't let much more time pass either, so he felt he was caught in a dead end street. Figuring out a way to help Zowie wouldn't be easy, and he had the feeling that he didn't have much time either. Zowie didn't look like he could afford much more pondering time, a feeling reinforced by his work commitments, which would be taking him away from the country in about a month. Torn, Geoff threw his head back with a defeated sigh. No one said getting involved in other people's business would be easy, right?

~*~

The first thing Zowie noticed upon entering her apartment was that she was on her own. The silence, barely interrupted by the faint noises coming from the streets suddenly fell on her with the power of a lightning, and the enormity of what had just happened finally hit her. Relief at discovering herself on her own, and the sheer terror she had experienced at finding herself in front of Geoff, as well as the turmoil that the news he had shared with her had caused her, they all hit her like a tidal wave. Her legs gave in under her and with the sole support of the door behind her; Zowie dropped the bag in her hands, groceries rolling out and in every direction as she collapsed on the cold floor, heaving for breath.

What was going on? What was Geoff doing in Los Angeles and more importantly, how had he found her? Fear made her chest tighter, making it even harder for her to breathe. Had William sent Geoff after her? Was William himself following her trail? Zowie tried to take a deep breath to steady herself, but she failed miserably. Still, she tried to put things into perspective. Did she really consider William capable of dropping his life in New Zealand just to come after her? Zowie had to shake her head at that. Had she held such importance to her dad, then he would have never done what had set her apart from him to begin with.

Even with that concern discarded, many others whirled in Zowie's mind. She hadn't been able to make her dream come true. Geoff, however, had. Was she so flawed, so useless, that she couldn't succeed at the one thing she loved the most? Her head throbbed painfully and Zowie held it between her hands, fearing it would explode. God, she wanted to disappear! Geoff was good, there was no doubt about it, but he simply didn't love sword fighting half as much as she did! And what mattered her the most, there was no one he desperately wanted to see like Zowie did. If only she found herself a step closer to Orlando in some way...

A though suddenly struck her mind. Would she be able to stand in front of Orlando in the state she was in? For the first time in a long, long time, Zowie stopped to considering what she had been doing to herself. What would he think if he saw her? There was so much turmoil, so much darkness inside her, that Orlando would surely run away from her the minute he saw her.

She felt nothing like the girl he had met four years ago. At twenty-one, Zowie felt like an entire lifetime had gone by in the span of a short time. Instead of going to University like she had planned, she had travelled halfway across the world. Instead of graduating, like she should be doing in that precise moment, she had taken her life through the darkest path she could find. The entire world had pushed her in that direction, though. Her dad, his lies, Orlando and his inability to love her the way she still loved him, her dreams shattering to pieces... they all had led her by the hand into the arms of her addiction. It was _their_ fault, the fault of all her loved ones for not understanding, the fault of all those people who couldn't see that she was the right one for the job. _They_ were to blame, not her! She was nothing but a victim and Zowie stubbornly deafened the tiny voice inside her that tried to convince her of the opposite.

Still, no matter how hard she tried to silence it, there was no denying it: she was a mess, and Zowie knew it. Up to that day, she hadn't felt a true feeling, one that brought some life to her heart and soul in a long, long time. Sure, the way she felt in that moment did nothing but tear her heart into shreds as desperation overpowered her, but it was a reminder that she was still alive. Diligently, with a determination that now took her completely by surprise, Zowie had managed to keep herself shut to any sort of feeling with the aid of the drugs.

Could she do anything else, though? Was there anyone out there who could understand her? She had no friends and her family was on the opposite end of the world. All she had in the world was Matt. Matt, whom with all his flaws, his darkness and his own issues, was the only person who could truly understand her. He too had been lied to, he too had been cheated to; he had even been beaten up by the one person who should have loved him the most, the one person who should have never hurt him. Who could understand her better than him? Matt could see in her scars the same pain he had experienced and if he offered her a way out of that grief, how could she say no to that? They shared the pain in a way no one else could comprehend and now that he wasn't around, Zowie felt his absence like a blow to her heart.

Not once did it cross Zowie's mind that hers and Matt's relationship was nothing but a sick, twisted affair. Not once did it occur to her that the dependence to one another was much too similar to the one that joined them both to drugs, making their bond a horribly unhealthy one. What did cross her mind, however, was a feeling, albeit remote, of recognition as to the wrong in her own state. That was what she had feared the most when being with Geoff, she realised, that he could see in her the secrets that she had kept from everyone for so long.

Three years, Zowie mused. Three long years struggling with a side of her that she couldn't control, a side of her that pleased her but that disgusted her enormously at the same time. A side of her that she clung to because it made her feel safe, but one that upset her heart tremendously. One she couldn't control nor stop, but that she knew very well would be her final undoing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6.**

_“If it makes you happy_  
It can't be that bad   
If it makes you happy   
Then why the hell are you so sad?”

**_Sheryl Crow – If It Makes You Happy_ **

 

Later that day, Zowie would remember very little of its events, but although that was how things had been as of late, it didn't surprise her anymore. There weren't many days she could remember with complete clarity, not since relapsing into her old habits. Memories laid scattered here and there in her mind, but no thread connected them. What did she need them for, anyway? Wasn't that precisely the reason why Zowie had started doing drugs in the first place, to aid oblivion? That day wouldn't be any different; if anything, all she wanted to do was to forget what had happened.

There was a difference, though. A panic more overwhelming that anything she could remember feeling had taken her over, leaving her cold on the floor and panting for breath, her face streaked with tears she couldn't remember shedding. Yet, regardless of how worrying thoughts of Geoff's presence could be, there were some other more pressing matters that pushed Zowie forward. She didn't want Matt to walk into the apartment to find her like that and spurred by the memory of his barely controlled anger, she stood on shaky legs to quickly tidy the mess of scattered groceries on the floor. She even went as far as tidying the rest of the apartment just to keep her mind busy from the conversation she had just had with Geoff, but the images and the voices in her head were much too powerful, and Zowie collapsed on the same sofa where, just hours earlier, she had given herself to the oblivion of the drugs and to Matt's touch.

Thoughts, memories, voices, they created a mighty whirlwind in her mind, one that demanded escape. Craving the bliss of the drugs, Zowie began looking in Matt's usual hiding places but when her search proved to be unsuccessful, she began to grow desperate. What the hell had Matt done? Where was their stuff? Was he punishing her for neglecting her housewife duties earlier that day? Even in her state, Zowie had to realise that doing _that_ would be taking things a little too far!

Panic had already begun building up inside her when Zowie heard the front door being open. Instead of soothing her, the sound made her fury burst and stomping out of the bedroom, she was ready to face an army if necessary in order to gain access to what she needed so badly.

“Where the hell did you hide our stuff?”

Zowie barely gave Matt enough time to close the door behind him, and the smile he had been wearing on his handsome face soon vanished, morphing into a confused frown.

“What are you talking about?”

Furious, Zowie punched his arm with all her might before grabbing fistfuls of his t-shirt and tugging at it forcefully.

“I'm talking about the pills, you asshole!” She hissed through gritted teeth; although angry, she still didn't want their neighbours to listen to the whole argument. “Where are they?”

Something in her tone, in her imprecation, managed to erase whatever traces of good mood remained in Matt and when his blue eyes took on a stormy shade, Zowie's own anger vanished.

But it was a moment too late.

Matt let out a furious growl, and the fist that connected with her temple sent a blinding white hot pain through Zowie's head, one that numbed her to everything else. There had been such power in the blow that she stumbled backwards, one hand flying to clutch her head while the other blindly grabbed at anything to stop her fall. Her legs still gave in under her, though, and sparks burned behind her eyes when she hit the floor hard.

Pain. That was all Zowie's mind could register for long, endless instants. It spread through her entire being like a wild fire so strong, she cried her agony out when she felt so dizzy she thought she would faint. But no matter how strong, the pain had to recede at one point and when it did, Zowie's mind was flooded with questions... and fears.

So that was it. The line had been crossed. The line which had been drawn in their relationship, the one that circumscribed Matt's violence to some well-determined moments had been destroyed. With a heavy breath, Zowie opened her eyes, the world spinning around her as fear made her heart hammer against her ribs. What would happen now? Whatever feeling of safety Zowie had felt by Matt's side had vanished in the span of a second, replaced by an uncertainty that she knew would never leave her. When would that happen again? But more importantly, would it be _now_? Terrified, Zowie looked up, her eyes having a hard time focusing on Matt. Still, what she saw on his face the moment the blur in her eyes cleared some only served to confuse her even more.

The anger was still there, still lingering in the background, but a new outburst of consciousness had begun to force its way through and she could almost read the struggle in Matt's blue eyes. She knew what he was thinking: had he turned into his father? A voice screamed the answer in her mind, making her pain worse. She should have known. She should have known all along that, sooner or later, something like that would happen. Could Matt stray from the path that he had grown up in? Obviously not. Even when he looked confused and realisation began to alter his until then furious features, Zowie wasn't sure he wouldn't strike her again so she began to crawl away from him, one hand clutching her head, the other blindly gripping at the floorboards as she did.

Her gesture, the sheer pitifulness in it seemed to be exactly what Matt needed to finally snap out of his haze. He wasn't used to be pushed or bossed around by anyone, so Zowie's demand had snapped something inside him that he hadn't known was even there. But that bubble, carefully isolated for so long, had finally exploded, with Zowie as its sole victim. How did she _dare_ to demand anything from him? Didn't she know how much she depended on him? Drugs, food, a roof above her head... Matt gave it all to her. If he did as much as raise a finger, she would be left without a single thing and without a place to go.

Nevertheless, and despite the fury that had exploded inside him, Matt couldn't ignore the terror in Zowie's eyes. He had hurt her other times before, yes, but that was something else, something he couldn't control, something the drugs stirred to life inside him and that always got the best of him. Yet, Matt had never hurt Zowie intentionally when off the drugs because in his own sick and twisted way, he loved her. She understood him, yes, but what mattered to him the most, Zowie needed him. Even if only for practical matters, Zowie needed Matt beside her and that was something he had never felt before. His own father had made it perfectly clear that Matt wasn't worth a thing and as for his mother, it hadn't been any different. Perhaps the woman had indeed loved him, but she had never found the way around her husband's overwhelming and abusive behaviour to let Matt know exactly how much he meant to her.

Why would he let Zowie go, then? She needed him in a way no one else had before and that was something Matt wasn't ready to give up any time soon. That was also why understanding how much he had hurt her affected him so deeply. The beast was still very much alive inside him, but it couldn't fight the self-loathing that began to fill every inch of him.

But Zowie still crawled away from him, and realisation that hit Matt with the power of lighting. He was no better than his dad! The one person he had absolutely hated all throughout his life, Matt had done nothing but follow his steps. He had turned into the same kind of beast, and the thought made him physically sick.

“Zowie, baby...” At the sound of Matt's voice, Zowie's attempts to widen the distance between them increased, her eyes flashing with terror. Kneeling down beside her, Matt tried to take her in his arms as regret overwhelmed him. “I'm sorry, Zow... I'm so sorry!”

In that instant, Zowie would have gladly given her life away just to avoid Matt's touch, the thought of being so close to him making her stomach turn. Would he hurt her again? Even if his clear blue eyes shone with the deepest regret she had ever seen in anyone, Zowie still wasn't ready to trust him. Her insides rebelled at the mere thought of his closeness, but fearing Matt's reaction should she push him away scared her even more. His arms were the last place Zowie wanted to be, but what other choice did she have? She had nowhere to go and no one to turn to. She had made sure of that when she had severed all bonds with her loved ones.

“I didn't mean to hit you, Zowie. I swear I didn't, baby... I love you!” Matt whispered fervently in her ear as he cradled her face in his hands, making Zowie wince. Whether the gesture had been caused by the physical pain or the close contact, she didn't know; her heart was frosted with terror. “It's just that... you made me do it, Zow. You made me so mad... so mad! I swear I didn't want to hit you. I love you, Zowie, please don't ever make me do this to you again, you hear me?”

Zowie closed her eyes, her heart torn in two by Matt's words. Did he love her? Did he _really_ love her? Why did he hurt her, then? A part of her screamed that physically hurting someone had never been nor would be an integral part of any kind of love but, what was normal in her life anymore? Perhaps Matt was right. Perhaps Zowie _had_ made him hit her with her demands and her own violence. Perhaps she was the one to blame.

She was so lost in thought; she didn't notice Matt's arms had left her until he stood up beside her, bringing a shiver to her body. What would happen now?

When Matt noticed her fear, he crouched down beside her and, once again taking her face between his hands, he tried to sketch a confident smile that came out as nothing but phony.

“I have something special for you.” He said in a fervent whisper, his eyes boring into hers. “You will love this, Zow... I promise.”

Zowie took a deep breath the moment Matt disappeared in the kitchen and her fingers, lingering and uncertain, lightly brushed her temple. There was a momentary relief when the hand came out clean, no blood stains in sight, but it was short-lived; hiding that wouldn't be easy. However, as Matt chose that precise moment to leave the kitchen, those thoughts were soon forgotten. She eyed him warily, and when he crouched down before her with an encouraging smile, that wariness grew.

“This is something new.” He said, opening his palm to reveal a small, nondescript square package. “I've been thinking about it for some time and I thought we could give it a go... see how it goes.”

Although his explanation did spark some curiosity inside her, Zowie didn't feel inclined to take the time to figure his words out.

“What... what is this?” She said in a voice that still showed the panic inside her.

“This is heroin, Zowie.” Matt explained, an eager look on his face. “This will put all pills to shame, I swear.”

There was no way Zowie could pledge ignorance. Although she had never tried it, she knew exactly what heroin was and even if she didn't know any details, the promise in Matt's words managed to make her forget the throbbing on her temple for some instants. Was it really as good as Matt said? Pills usually helped her forget whatever bothered her, but after being on them for so long, the effect wasn't the same anymore. The first high had never been matched, no matter how hard she sought for it, but the heroin promised something different, something new and after so much turmoil, the voice inside her that compelled her to take drugs lured her once again.

Matt didn't say anything, but Zowie's eyes followed his actions attentively. He dissolved the drug in water and heated the preparation before drawing it into a syringe was a process she had seen before in other people, but one she had never imagined she would learn to do herself. Injecting the drug wasn't easy, and the expertise with which Matt led her brought more than a few questions to the back of her mind, questions Zowie didn't voice. She simply let his coaxing voice flow through her along with the drugs as he slowly, almost sweetly removed the needle from her arm and then proceeded to inject himself. She had no idea how long it would take for the euphoria to kick in, but when it finally did, Zowie knew she would never, ever, turn back to the pills again.

This was the feeling she had been after for so long, right there, at the tip of her fingers! Enthusiastic, Zowie embraced it fully, letting the drug flow through her system. Her skin tingled and her muscles relaxed to the point of weakness, but there was such rush inside her and the euphoria was so powerful, she gave in to it, no questions asked. It didn't matter how wrong things were; as long as she had _this_ feeling to turn to, there was nothing in the world she couldn't deal with. Consequences would come later as always, but as she collapsed willingly into Matt's arms, Zowie let her mind roam free, a slow smile creeping up her lips. There was no more pain, no more fear... only oblivion, a feeling she craved with all her heart.

~*~

The high, no matter how exhilarating it could be, had to die down some time and when it did, reality was far much too overwhelming for Zowie's liking. Why did it always have to end? Why couldn't that blissful state just go on and on forever, maintaining her in a never-ending succession of euphoria and oblivion? Reality was horrible, who ever thought Zowie could feel any inclined to experiment it?

Nevertheless, consciousness still filtered in her brain, her surroundings becoming clearer with each passing second as Zowie let her eyes roam free. She didn't know how or when she had made it to hers and Matt's room, but the unmade beneath her with its rumpled coverlet was beginning to bother her. She tugged at it until the bumps against her back disappeared but as she did, another fact was brought to her attention. There was a persistent throbbing on her left temple, one that having been noticed increased with every heartbeat making her stomach twist rebelliously. Good God, where had that come from?

Almost on their own will, Zowie's fingers flew to rub her temple hoping to ease the pain, but when they met a large bump there, they stilled all movement, the tips barely brushing the discovery. Her eyes bolted open and as she did, images played before her eyes with clarity and a speed that made the torture worse. Her mind rebelled at the evidence before her, but when Zowie dug deeper in her memory, she knew there was no denying or pretending. She knew where that injury came from but, above all, who and what had caused it.

Had that day been marked in her calendar as the day that would throw her life completely off centre? Zowie had lived in a stable if unhealthy balance until that day; she had her boyfriend, had her drugs, and not much else mattered. How could it be that said stability had to be jeopardised in so many ways during one single day? First that unsettling surprise meeting with Geoff, and then... Zowie closed her eyes at the thought. Matt had hit her. Having recognised and accepted its source, the throbbing on her temple grew once more, spreading all throughout her head and making her whimper in agony.

Her fingers lingered on the large swell that seemed to cover most of the left side of her face. A part of her, a masochistic one Zowie would bet, wanted her to assess the damage herself, but another one urged her to remain in bed and ignore everything. If just the thought of getting up made her feel sick, what would moving do to her, then? The curious side won, nonetheless, and even though sitting up only made her dizzy to a point Zowie thought she would faint, she still carried on as if on a haze.

Leaving the bed took Zowie longer than she could have imagined and when she finally made it to the bathroom, she was gasping for breath. It wasn't just the pounding headache slowing her down; her muscles, sore and weak after her first taste of heroin, felt each step forward like a torture they couldn't quite put up with. Still, as she held on to the basin and tried to catch her breath, reluctance and uncertainty rose inside her. Did she really want to know how bad it was? What would she do with that knowledge, anyway? It wouldn't change a single thing and perhaps, if she ignored it, she would be able to carry on as if nothing had happened. She would still be able to pretend that Matt wasn't the violent man he obviously was, and that things weren't as bad as they seemed in that instant.

Although Zowie was an expert at silencing the voices of reason in her mind, there was still a part of her that refused to be numbed, no matter how much drug circulated in her system or how hard Zowie tried to ignore it. A voice that, in that moment, urged her to look at herself and see how much damage Matt had caused.

Zowie looked up, but long instants passed before she finally comprehended the reflection the mirror offered her. It was bad... it was _really_ bad, she thought as a gasp echoed in the tiled bathroom. The skin had begun to darken in a large, ugly bruise, but the swell... the swell took her breath away. Her cheek, her temple, even her left eye had been affected, the latter forced shut by the swelling in a grotesque way.

Zowie sighed shakily, fear, pain and even a hint of humiliation mixing inside her and bringing burning tears to her eyes. How had it come to this? Matt loved her, he had said so himself! Still, that didn't erase the fact that his violence, the one Zowie had always considered controlled, had been unleashed.

With a groan, Zowie opened the tab and taking her black sweater off to reveal a tank top underneath, she splashed cold water over her face and neck. It didn't perform any miracles like magically vanishing the pain, but it did manage to clear her mind some, and when she stared at her reflection once again, Zowie studied herself, a part of her rebelling at the sight the mirror offered her. Her hair was a mess. Her face, well... nothing could be done about it until the bruise disappeared, and only God knew how long that would take, but what the tank top exposed, however, was what unsettled her the most. Usually, Zowie went out of her way to avoid giving those marks any sort of examination, but after that day's events, they seemed to scream at her demanding for attention.

Many of them had vanished, much too superficial to last longer than a couple of days. Others, however, still lingered, marring her otherwise smooth and flawless skin in a way that stood to attention even to the most inattentive eye. Zowie could only see the marks in her arms, but even without taking her top off, she knew that the scars spread down her tummy, back, and even legs, dotting her skin in a way that would never allow her to forget Matt for as long as she lived.

It was a shameful secret; one Zowie wouldn't willingly share with anyone. How could she possibly explain that what Matt did, he did it during their lovemaking? It had been shocking at first and she had tried to ask him about it, but even he couldn't explain it, and Zowie now knew she had accepted it hoping the violence she could see burning inside him would be controlled. Most of the cuts vanished without a trace, but those that didn't those that remained in the form of jarred scar tissue, Zowie took great care on covering them at all times.

She had always hoped that letting go in small doses would keep Matt in control that those tiny acts she dealt with would keep him calm and somewhat sane, but she had been wrong. A door had been opened inside Matt and she had the feeling it would never, ever, be closed again. How far would he go now? Shivering, Zowie shook her head before quickly putting her sweater back on.

But a question prodded at her mind, refusing to be ignored. When would Matt go far enough to hurt her badly? And more importantly, what would she do then? Matt had promised it would never happen again, but Zowie couldn't trust him. The persistent voice inside her begged her to look for a solution or, at the very least, something to fall back on should the worst happen, but what? Her family was out of the question. Who else could...?

Geoff.

Ignoring the throbbing in her head, Zowie's eyes darted around, her mind whirling as the memory of their meeting played in her mind. Suddenly, urgent hands patted the pockets of her jeans, those few uncertain seconds until her right hand came in contact with a slightly rigid piece of paper seeming an eternity. There was a reluctant slowness in her movements as she pulled the card out, though, and uncertainty filled Zowie as she read the numbers written in black ink.

This was the solution she had thought missing. This was the door to something better, but Zowie wasn't sure she could step through it, not with everything it entailed. Could she possibly explain Geoff everything that needed to be told? Zowie didn't think she had it in her to open her heart in such way, but at the same time, she refused to let go of this chance that had been handed to her.

Her eyes scanned Geoff's card, recalling the moment she had given him her number. She had just wanted to run away before anything was exposed, but now that her so called safety had vanished, an urge grew inside her. She wasn't sure the phone still worked, hell, didn't even know where it was, but if this was the only lifesaver she got, then she would have to find it no matter what.

Her heart hammered in her chest as Zowie nearly stumbled in her hurry to get out of the bathroom. Her sore muscles complained at the abuse, but she paid them no attention as she headed to her room, desperation coiling in her chest. Where to start? Was the phone even there? She wasn't sure whether she or Matt hadn't thrown it away long ago, but she couldn't give in, not now, not when her safety depended on it.

With desperation trickling down her back, Zowie threw herself at the task at hand, fruitlessly digging pockets, bags, boxes and shelves until she finally discovered, discarded in a dusty corner, her old cell phone. By some miracle, the battery charger rested neatly beside it, but the hesitation that coursed Zowie almost choked her, a mix of relief and fear washing over her at the sight. Doing this meant accepting that something was wrong. Doing it meant accepting that she needed help that there were things that she couldn't handle on her own, and those were things Zowie wasn't very good at. Nonetheless, a quick brush of her fingers against the swell on her face was all the answer she needed.

Her movements were clumsy and hasty, the phone slipping from her hand and hitting the surface below with a soft thud that sounded thunderous to Zowie's anxious ears. She barely cast a glance in that direction, but the glossy, reddish-brown wood that caught her eye brought a tidal wave of memories and emotions to her heart.

Inside that box, forgotten in a dusty corner of a chaotic closet, rested a sword. _Her_ sword, the one her parents had given her in her eighteenth birthday, when everything was still easy and nothing worried her. Zowie closed her eyes, the first time she had held the blade in her hand coming back to her with a clarity that took her aback and that made her heart ache. For a fleeting second she had the urge of holding it once again, but she held herself back in the last instant. Why rub salt in the wound? Why test and see what she could do with the sword if no one wanted her for that job?

With a sad sigh and a heavy heart, Zowie once again covered the box before focusing on the phone. Her movements were slow and uncertain as she plugged the battery charger, and even more shaky when she connected it to the phone. She knew she had to hide it before Matt showed up, but before doing so, she pressed the _on_ button, her breath getting caught in her throat when the display came to life. It worked! Zowie let out a small cry; whether of joy or terror, she didn't know. It was a good thing she was already on her knees; otherwise she would have collapsed under the weight of the conflictive emotions that assaulted her.

With still trembling hands, Zowie slipped the phone under the bed, careful to cover every trace of it before collapsing on the mattress. A strange mix of relief and anxiety filled every inch of her, one that prevented her from staying still even as she lay down. The novelty, the risk of the step she had just taken was still first and foremost in her mind, but another thought was slowly making its way forward in an undeniable way.

Heroin.

It was wrong. God, it was so wrong, Zowie couldn't even begin to describe it. Even in her state, she knew she was playing with fire. Yes, it was much stronger than the pills and yes, it worked wonders, but could she control it? Could she even handle it? The relief was big and the euphoria was like nothing Zowie had ever known before, but although she craved it to keep her demons at bay, her heart begged her to stay away from it. Heroin wasn't ecstasy. Both were bad, yes, but she had seen what the former did to people, and if she wanted to be able to avoid repeats of that day's events, she needed to keep a clear head.

Easier said that done, though.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7.**

 

If slipping two slices of pizza into a microwave could ever be considered as cooking, then that was precisely what Zowie was doing when an unfamiliar buzz tingled in her hip. The sudden feeling made her jolt in her spot, and she barely managed to pose the plate back on the counter before it went crashing down on the floor.

But surprise wasn't the only thing coursing her body in that instant – realisation too filled her every fibre. It was her phone! Her shock was so big, her hands were rendered immobile to a point Zowie feared she would never get to answer the call in time. Yet, the persistent vibration in her front pocket carried on, snapping Zowie out of her haze. Clumsily, hurriedly, her fingers fumbled with the phone as she got it out from her pocket, her eyes wide as saucers when they recognised the name flashing on the display.

“Hello?” Her voice sounded so weak and unsure when she finally answered the call that Zowie wasn't sure the person on the other end had heard her.

“Zowie?”

The voice filled her with a wave of conflictive emotions. On one hand, relief was overwhelming, coursing through her entire being with an intensity that made her dizzy. Yet, on the other hand, fear filled her; one so potent she almost turned the phone off in that same instant.

Geoff. Geoff had called her. Geoff had kept his promise, even though Zowie hadn't dared to believe he would. It would have been so easy to discard his offer, but something hadn't allowed her to; whether survival instinct or simple common sense, Zowie didn't know. What she did know, however, was that she couldn't waste this chance. Geoff was her only hope.

“Yeah, it's-it's me.” She finally stammered, her voice weak as it clawed its way through the knot in her throat. “It's me Geoff... hi!”

Her enthusiasm sounded phony even to Zowie's own ears, but she wasn't going to let Geoff know the intensity of the turmoil raging inside her. Even though a part of her wanted to trust him, the other didn't feel safe by letting him into her biggest secret.

On the other end of the line, Geoff frowned. Zowie's futile attempt to sound cheerful hadn't gone missing to him, but he was hardly surprised. After what he had witnessed a week ago, he would have been more concerned had Zowie been all cheerfulness and laughter.

Pretending none of it bothered him the slightest, Geoff carried on.

“How are you? I hope you don't mind me calling.” He said. “Are you busy?”

Geoff closed his eyes the minute the words escaped his mouth. What had possessed him to say those words out loud? He had mentally revised every possible outcome of that call, but giving Zowie the perfect way out hadn't been one of them. He shook his head. What was done was done, and all Geoff could do now was pray she didn't take the easy way out. And if nothing but a slight glimmer of the old Zowie survived, then Geoff knew she wouldn't.

“Its okay, Geoff, don't worry. I was...” Zowie looked around and the clock on the microwave glared at her. 3 PM. No way she could admit being about to have some resemblance of a normal lunch, right? Her brain spinning, Zowie tried to come up with a lie that sounded, at the very least, plausible. “I was about to have a cup of coffee. You?”

They tap danced on a thin line, each knowing exactly the kind of act the other was putting, yet accepting it no questions asked. None of them knew where it would lead, but while Geoff hoped to figure out what was going on with that girl he had known for so long, Zowie still had to make her mind up as to whether she wanted Geoff in her life or not.

“I was thinking that maybe we could have that cup of coffee together.” Geoff said, proud that he had found a way to keep her, if anything, on the phone for a few more minutes. “How about we meet up in the café we went to the last time? It's a nice place. I hope it's not that far away from your house?”

Zowie bit her lip, her heart filling itself with new doubts and hesitation with every single beat. Was this wise? Did she actually want to meet Geoff again and field the questions that would surely come sooner or later? But above all... was Zowie willing to let go of the one helping hand that could assist her? Her hand brushed her now recovered temple as she considered her options.

“Why don't we meet in... let's say... half an hour?” Zowie offered. “Is it too soon for you?”

“It's fine with me, but are you sure you can make it there in just half an hour?” The teasing in Geoff's voice didn't go unnoticed to Zowie and, much to her surprise, she discovered herself smiling when the true meaning behind his words became clear. She had always been known for taking _ages_ before going anywhere and obviously, half an hour seemed too short of a time for him, at least when related to the old Zowie.

“I will. Just make sure _you_ are on time.”

As she ended the call, Zowie took a moment to collect herself, her eyes wide as she tried to analyse her behaviour. First of all... where had all that come from? When she realised the smile still lingered on her lips, Zowie's surprise increased. She didn't even try to look for an answer but she knew without questioning that it had been a long, long time since she had last sketched a sincere smile. Tight ones, fake ones, smiles that were meant to hide a jumbled world behind, those were something she was very used to; however, Geoff had managed, with nothing but a few words, to make her smile sincerely in a way she hadn't been able to do in a long, long time. He had even reminded her of the past in a way that hadn't made her uneasy; if anything, it had been a good way to remember how things had been once. It had all changed so much... Zowie shook her head. For the first time in months, she was looking forward to something other than her fix of drugs to evade herself from reality. It would be a challenge, that was for sure, but apparently, a bigger part of the old Zowie was still alive inside her, much more than she had anticipated, and that part was more than ready to face it.

~*~

A quick shower and a change of clothes later, Zowie left Westlake behind and quickly crossed the Harbor Freeway. That same landmark that had until days ago been nothing but a reminder of her own failure, now seemed a bridge to something better. It still unsettled her to be reminded of such things and that was why she barely looked around, but the part of her that wanted Geoff's help was more powerful, leading her with sure, quick steps.

When the café finally came into sight, Zowie took a deep breath, stealing a quick look at herself on a shop's window. It was nothing like she could have achieved with half the clothes and make up items she had left behind in Wellington, but no one could say she hadn't tried. Her shower might have been quick, but not any less diligent because of that and her hair now hung loose down her back in a long, dark blonde curtain. Although her clothes, a long-sleeved white t-shirt and dark blue jeans paled in comparison to anything Geoff had seen her in before, they were the best ones she had in her closet, and they were certainly an improvement from their last meeting.

The growling in her stomach brought Zowie back to reality, and she resumed walking. She had taken some money she had found in one of Matt's drawers, money she had no plans of keeping; she would put it back where it belonged the minute she got back home. Still, Zowie couldn't show up penniless, and she hoped Matt didn't notice the few dollars that had gone missing before she got the chance to slip them in their hiding place once again.

By the time Zowie reached the café, a curious glance inside told her Geoff was already there waiting for her and rather impatiently at that, considering the way he nervously eyed his watch. Although the sight brought a tiny smile to her lips, it also managed to almost make all her determination vanish. What was she doing? For the briefest second, Zowie considered going back on her steps and running back home where she could shelter herself in the safety that she knew would find there, until she remembered the ugly bruise that had accompanied her for almost a week.

However, before she could even make up her mind, Geoff cast a quick glance over his shoulder, almost as if noticing a pair of eyes studying him intensely from a distance. Smiling at her, he gave her a wave, and Zowie knew the time for running away had long since passed. Wasn't that was she was there for, anyway? To meet Geoff, have a friendly chat with him and perhaps lay out some foundations in case she needed his help in the future? No one said Zowie had to sit down and debrief her entire life for him. She could handle a friendly chat; at least, she had been able to years ago. Surely that skill was still there somewhere!

Taking a deep, hopefully soothing breath, Zowie took one step forward, the definitive step that would seal her fate regardless of the path it decided to take. Pondering on whether to try and sketch a smile, she decided against it as she opened the door; nothing good would come out of trying to force herself into anything, so Zowie simply decided to let things flow. This wasn't dipping her toes in to test the waters; this was diving head first into the unknown, and that was more than Zowie had done in years.

Geoff stood up as Zowie approached him, his brown eyes studying her as closely and as subtly as he could as he tried to conceal his surprise. She had agreed to this meeting, yes, but Geoff had had the nagging feeling in the back of his mind that Zowie might change her mind and not show up at all. Sure, she had sounded different, she had even joked with him, but considering what he had seen a few days ago, he hadn't been sure it wasn't all an act. She was there now, though, and the sight she presented was a very much welcomed change from the image that had lingered in his mind for days.

Zowie looked better. Perhaps not a hundred percent better and obviously nothing like the girl that had left New Zealand almost three years ago, but it was impossible not to notice that she had at least made the effort to look better this time. Her hair was clean and shiny and her clothes, while simple and comfortable, were nothing like the baggy top and oversized jeans Zowie had worn for their previous, even if unexpected meeting.

“Zowie, welcome.” Geoff greeted her with a sincere smile that brought one to her own lips. It might not have been as wide and confident as his, but it was honest, and that was more than he had dared to hope.

“Hi, Geoff. Did I keep you waiting long?”

Geoff smiled genuinely, pleased by the slightest hint of teasing in her voice.

“Well, I wasn't honestly counting.” He responded. “But no, you didn't keep me waiting long. I think you're pretty much right on time, in fact.”

With a small grin on her lips, Zowie took the seat Geoff offered her before throwing a quick look around. The place was still as lovely as it had been the previous time and although she was still much too wound up, much too tense and nervous to enjoy it completely, she certainly had a better appreciation of her surroundings this time. Still, Zowie failed to feel completely at ease there. She knew she was being paranoid, but Zowie feared everyone, Geoff included, could see the truth flimsy hidden behind a quick shower and a change of clothes.

She had never intended to become a sociophobe, but at some point during the time she had spent with Matt, Zowie had stopped socialising with most of the people in order to keep her secret safe. Now, without the safety of the walls of her apartment around her, without the haze of the drugs to keep her isolated from everyone, Zowie felt extremely insecure and vulnerable, and she barely repressed the sudden urge of running away that rose inside her. It was nothing but Geoff, she reminded herself; someone she had known for years!

“What are you having, Zowie?” Geoff asked as he motioned the waitress to come and take their orders. “Order anything you want. It's on me.”

Zowie didn't miss the elegant way Geoff had of ridding her of any problems regarding money, and although she not might insist much on paying her part now, she would definitely do so when the time came. Giving him a quick nod, she eyed the menu, her stomach growling at the sight of the delicious pastries the café offered. She was starved after missing her lunch, but in the end chose to order nothing but a brownie and a cup of coffee, not wanting to give Geoff any more food for thought.

Their chat as they waited for their orders was idle, non-committal, almost as if they tested the grounds they stepped on. Zowie especially was very aware of that. She needed Geoff's help, she wanted to feel that hope in her heart, but also understood the dangers of letting him get too close to her. He could never follow her, for example, for if Matt found out about those meetings, only God knew what he would do.

Minutes later, the waitress finally placed their orders on the table and although Zowie wanted nothing but to pounce on the brownie and attack it with gusto, she controlled herself, mindful of the barely concealed curiosity in Geoff's eyes. She still gave the deliciously smelling dessert a longing look, though, her mouth watering at the sight. Usually, she didn't feel very hungry, not when drugs suppressed her appetite most of the time, but that day was different.

“I wasn't sure you'd be able to make it.” Geoff said, stirring the sugar in his coffee and breaking the sudden silence that had fallen upon them. “It was such a short notice and I didn't know how far your place was from here.”

Zowie looked up at him, an amused grin tickling at the corner of her lips that she barely managed to repress. What a smooth way to try and find out whether she lived in the area, she mused.

“Don't worry. It's not that far from here and it's a nice day for a walk.” She answered. She knew she should have elaborated more, but until she figured out whether she could ask him for help when the time came, Zowie wanted to keep that side of her life as it was: secret.

This time, it was Geoff's turn to grin. Having noticed the true intentions behind his words, Zowie had turned the tables on him, using his same method. Yes, she lived not too far away and no, she was obviously _not_ telling him exactly where. Not even a vague number of streets that Geoff could use as a base for a future investigation.

Nonetheless, the moment Zowie turned her undivided attention on the brownie, Geoff's heart stilled for the briefest of instants. She had eaten nothing but crumbs of her bagel the last time they had been there, but now, as she took the brownie and gave it a hearty bite, Geoff breathed a sigh of relief. Zowie wasn't eating just to keep up with the appearances - this was her eating with gusto, delight, even, considering the look on her face. She had always had a healthy appetite and had never been overly obsessed with dieting, which was why her weight loss had concerned Geoff so much. It was still there, of course, it hadn't magically disappeared in a week, but seeing her act that way certainly eased some of his worries.

“So.” Geoff said, not wanting to be caught staring. “Do you live on your own, with a friend? Or is there someone else?”

Zowie almost chocked on her brownie at Geoff's question. There was such a careful nonchalance in his tone, that she instantly understood that this was something that had been going around in his mind for some time now; most likely, ever since their first meeting. Not that it made it any easier for her to answer, of course.

And she really didn't have many options to begin with, actually. She could either lie, tell the truth, or simply smile her way out of the question hoping he didn't ask again. They all had their pros and their cons, and while Zowie briefly weighed them all, she realised she was there for a reason, and that was to lay out some foundations in case she needed Geoff's help in the future. When put it that way, Zowie mused, the choice seemed obvious.

“Actually, I live with my boyfriend.”

It was Geoff's turn to choke and, and unlike Zowie, he wasn't able to control it. Amused, she watched as his eyes remained on her even when tears filled them.

“Boyfriend?”

His voice sounded hoarse and thick and even as he took a sip of his coffee, Geoff's eyes never left her. Now that was a surprise! The possibility had been floating in his mind, but having Zowie confirming was still every bit of a shock. Did that guy have anything to do with her current state? And if he didn't, was he so blind that he couldn't help her when Zowie obviously needed it so much?

When she grinned and a spark of mischief lit up her blue eyes, it felt as if the old Zowie sat before him all over again. The old her would have never kept her opinion to herself and without any prodding, would have either teased him or just told him off for having those thoughts. This new Zowie, however, remained silent. The mischief didn't leave her eyes, though, and that managed to reassure Geoff that what troubled her couldn't be so serious if some of her spirit was still alive inside her.

“His name is Matt.” Zowie explained, idly folding the corners of her paper napkin. “We have been living together for some time now.”

Geoff tried to rein his surprise at the reaffirmation of her previous admission. Boyfriend? Living together? He had known Zowie all her life and a part of him refused to understand that Zowie wasn't a little girl anymore. The sole notion of her living with a man was still hard to grasp, and a voice inside him couldn't help but ask the question he had been trying to avoid.

What would William think if he found out about this? Because Geoff was certain Zowie's dad had absolutely no idea of this turn of the events. Even if she was twenty-one, the thought of her living with a man he didn't know anything about would drive William up a wall. Still, Geoff decided to keep that information to himself, at least for the time being. He wasn't acting as William's informant in Los Angeles, not if he wanted to stay in touch with Zowie and keep an eye on her; if she ever found out he had betrayed her trust, he was sure he would never, ever, see her again.

“Well, that's... that's quite a surprise.” Geoff said, knowing there was no use on trying to pretend he wasn't the least shocked by the news. “Excuse me if for being nosy, but... how long is _some time_ , actually? Like I said, this is too much of a surprise, you can't expect me to sit back and not ask a single thing about it!”

Zowie smiled, although some uneasiness lingered inside her. Once again, she was torn. Something inside her wanted to pour her heart out, tell him exactly what was going on and beg him for help, but her pride got in the way. Telling Geoff meant her parents would find out, and that was something Zowie couldn't allow, for only God knew what would happen if they hopped on a plane and came to Los Angeles.

“We've been living together for over a year now.”

The finality in her voice made it obvious that she wasn't answering any more questions about the matter any time soon. Geoff could have always prodded her for them, but decided against it in the end.

“That's great, Zow. If you're happy, then I'm happy.” Geoff murmured, and he was sure there was absolutely no conviction in his words no matter how hard he tried to soak them up in it. Then, putting on a fake tough look he hoped masked his true interest, he added. “Is he a good guy? Does he treat you like you deserve? Because if he ever gives you any trouble, just give me a call and I'll be there. I can throw a punch too; I'm not just good with swords.”

Zowie grinned courteously at Geoff's comment, but she could barely repress the shiver that tap danced down her spine. She knew that behind that teasing threat was a true offer for help, and Zowie knew Geoff would probably never understand how much it meant for her in that moment of her life.

“It's okay, Geoff.” She reassured him with a tiny smile. “I'll keep that offer in mind, though. Just make sure you don't turn your phone off, okay?”

While her words came out as a joke just as Zowie had intended them to, Geoff could have never imagined how true they actually were. Still, she hated herself. Why was it so hard to ask Geoff for the helping hand he was so obviously willing to give? Zowie wished things were as easy as merely saying the words.

Noticing the way her eyes darkened, Geoff tried to distract her.

“What did you say his name was?”

“Matt.” Zowie answered, taking a sip of her coffee. “Matt Hudson.”

“Matt.” Geoff murmured, as if trying to decipher Zowie's mystery by rolling her boyfriend's name on his tongue. “Would it be too curious of me to ask how old he is?”

Shaking her head, Zowie sketched a tiny smile.

“He's twenty-six. You can sit back and relax now, it's not like I'm not living with an older guy or anything.”

Geoff smiled at her light tone, all the while making a mental note and storing that name and age for future reference. Perhaps he was trying to read too much into each and every one of Zowie's actions and words, but he wouldn't trust that guy until he got a chance to meet him and see him with his own eyes. There had been something glowing in Zowie's eyes instants ago as she accepted his offer that had made Geoff all the more cautious. It was almost as if Zowie tried to make some message come across, something she wished he understood and although he couldn't comprehend it entirely, Geoff wouldn't give up so easily. He had the feeling that there was a key in her silent plea, one that would unlock far more doors than he could imagine as he sat before her in that café.

~*~

Zowie couldn't know, but as she and Geoff caught up as much as her secrecy allowed them to, reminiscing old times and sharing the most superficial pieces of news as if they held a transcendental meaning, back at her apartment, Matt stood in their bedroom, blue eyes storming as his insides boiled with anger.

What the hell was going on here? Since when did Zowie take money without asking him first? Matt was beyond furious. First, he had come back home to find an empty place. Zowie was nowhere to be seen, and there was no indication as to where she could be. Intrigued, he had looked around; looking for any sort of sign, but other than the usual state of untidiness of their apartment, there was nothing out of the ordinary. A feeling had seeped inside him, though, and with his heart pounding, he had stalked into their bedroom, opening the old chest of drawers, his hands expertly sliding inside, knowing exactly what to look for there.

There wasn't much money there since neither he nor Zowie were concerned about being careful with it, but Matt instantly knew that some of it was missing. How much exactly he couldn't know, but the amount wasn't the most important fact. What mattered to him the most was that Zowie had stolen money from him, and that she wasn't there to answer for it. Where on Earth was she? And what did she need money for, anyway? She had bought groceries the day before, so that wasn't it. Was she planning something?

A thought suddenly struck Matt like lighting. Was Zowie planning on leaving him? Perhaps that was the reason why the money was missing. Was she was slowly building up some savings with that idea in mind? A strong anger mixed with a potent fear brewed inside Matt. Zowie wasn't supposed to leave him! She was the only person who understood him. But there was another reason why she was living with him in the first place. Matt had known that with the right mix of attention, affection and love, Zowie would never leave his side. He had known that all along. Why else would he bring her home with him otherwise? He could have any other girl. He did, in fact. They all came to him the exact same way Zowie had: looking for drugs. And like Zowie, they hadn't stopped to consider what they were doing when the possibilities of free drugs grew in their minds. Not that he ever met his end of the bargain.

Still, Zowie was his prize. She was the most beautiful girl to ever come to him looking for drugs and it always filled him with pride when his friends saw him with her. They envied him, they wanted her, but Zowie was his. And with the exact combination of attention, affection and drugs, he had made sure she never left his side. But something was going on now, and Matt had no idea what it was. Furious and scared, he slammed his fist against the chest of drawers, making it shiver under his blow. He would find out what was going on, and when he did... God help Zowie if she was planning to play a dirty trick on him!


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8.**

_“Daddy's girl learned fast_

_All those things he couldn't say”_

**_Bon Jovi - Runaway_ **

 

Zowie was laughing. For the first time in a long, long time, she felt free enough to let that side of her see the light of day after a long period of darkness. When was the last time she had emitted a true, honest laugh? Zowie couldn't remember and the thought almost brought a frown she barely managed to contain. Geoff had worked his magic on her, nonetheless, and now, as he sat before her in their third meeting, Zowie couldn't help the wave of gratitude that grew inside her.

Not that it had been any easy, of course. More often than not, Zowie had found herself wondering what on Earth she was doing every time she answered to one of Geoff's calls. But no matter what, she couldn't let him go, not even when she feared he could find out the truth about her. It felt like dealing with two very different people living inside her, pulling at her in different directions: one wanting to let Geoff go and carry on with her life as it was, the other pleading her to open up before it was too late.

It was the latter that made her stay in touch with Geoff.

More than once had Zowie almost reached out and begged Geoff for help, but she had recoiled every single time. Could it be that, no matter the danger, she still found some security in the life she led? Deep down inside, Zowie knew she needed the drugs to remain sane. And deep down inside, she feared admitting she needed Matt, if only for the reassurance that someone out there was still willing to love her. So many people had disappointed her, that Zowie found it natural to cling to the one person that made her feel cherished and understood, even if in a twisted way.

But Geoff too cared about her, and knowing that had prompted something in Zowie she hadn't done in a long time: she tried to look her best for him. She knew a shower could never erase the traces of her excesses, but it could at least scrub some of the most obvious signs away. And then, when Zowie realised the clothes she owned would only end up giving her away, she mustered the courage to take some money from Matt and buy two new t-shirts and a pair of jeans.

It had been a strange and moving experience, going shopping after such a long time, for once Zowie stood in front of the mirror in nothing but her underwear, there was no denying what she had done to herself. Her face was thin, sharp, aggressive even with her square jawline, and as for the rest of her body... She had lost weight. A lot of weight. It wasn't extreme yet, but one good look at herself explained why Geoff had looked so shocked the first time he saw her. How much longer could she carry on like that without causing herself some serious damage? Her stomach tingled with uneasiness at the sole thought.

Lost in her musings, it took Zowie some long instants to notice that Geoff's curious gaze was fixed on her. Sketching a smile, she tried to shrug her sombre thoughts off hoping he wouldn't notice them.

“Sorry.” She finally muttered, her cheeks tingling with the slightest hint of a blush. “I was miles away. What were you saying?”

Geoff shrugged, as if her distraction hadn't bothered him the least.

“I was just wondering whether you're still in touch with any of the _Rings'_ guys.” He said. “You and Elijah were pretty close back in the day.”

Zowie's heart skipped a series of beats at Geoff's seemingly innocent question, the most varied emotions surging to life inside her and almost overwhelming her with their intensity.

“We did for a while. But then he got busy, I got busy...” Her voice drifted off and Zowie fixed her eyes on the orange juice before her, not wanting Geoff to read the truth in them. “I haven't heard from him in a while.”

For a moment, Zowie considered saying that it had been a natural process, but then decided against it in the last minute; adding any unwanted information could prove to be her downfall.

Her silence offered Geoff the chance to study her for some moments, and he tried to read in her body language all the things Zowie didn't dare to say. There were a million excuses she could come up with if she felt like it, but he knew that busy schedules had nothing to do with her drifting apart from Elijah. Whatever had changed Zowie had surely played an important role in it as well.

He would do well to keep that in mind, Geoff realised, for some weeks ago he had been invited by Peter himself to the Los Angeles premiere of _“The Return of the King” ,_ an event that now took a whole new dimension in light of the most recent events. While he had been looking forward to seeing the final product of everyone's jobs, his goal was a different one now. Elijah would be there. So would Orlando, and theirs was the help he needed the most.

Geoff had briefly considered sharing the news of the premiere with Zowie, but he had feeling doing so would only cast more shadows over her. He had even toyed with the idea of bringing her with him, but this new Zowie that sat before him was someone he didn't know at all. She had changed, and drastically at that. How would she react upon meeting the people that had meant so much to her in the past?

Geoff wouldn't be fooled. Not once, when mentioning her boyfriend, had Zowie talked about how much she loved him, and Geoff was willing to bet that her feelings for Orlando were still there, very much alive. Perhaps she wasn't as fascinated by him as she used to be, but something _had_ to be there. Both he and Elijah had been there for her when the truth about William came out, and if they had been able to support her then, why wouldn't be able to do the same now?

An image of Orlando lingered in Geoff's mind. Could it be that this same guy William had feared would hurt his daughter, turned out to be exactly what she needed to recover? If they had been right and Zowie had come to Los Angeles after Orlando, then perhaps he was the key to free her from whatever that kept her prisoner. And if that prison was what Geoff feared, then he would need all the help he could get.

But why would Zowie do drugs in the first place? Geoff couldn't understand that. She had always had everything she wanted; what could she possibly lack that pushed her to do something like that? The question took a whole new meaning when Geoff stopped to think of what Zowie had left behind in New Zealand. Her whole world had been shattered. Wasn't that reason enough for her to turn to drugs?

There was another option, but it was just as heart wrenching as the first. What if something really bad had happened to her? What if she had placed her trust in the wrong person upon arriving in Los Angeles only to end up having something horrible done to her? After all, what else could have turned the energetic Zowie he had known into this shadow that now sat before him?

That was why he kept wondering what meeting Elijah and Orlando would do to her. Would Zowie be able to open up to them? Would they manage to unearth the old Zowie that was hidden under layer after layer of darkness and mystery? Perhaps, if they entered her life, not only would they help Geoff understand what was wrong with her, but they would also assist her on leaving that behind.

But there was honestly no debate, for Geoff had made up his mind a long time ago. He would talk to Orlando and Elijah during the premiere, and he would beg for their help if necessary. He couldn't force the actors into doing anything, but Geoff's heart told him that, as soon as they found out Zowie was involved, they wouldn't hesitate. Elijah had always had this ability to make her trust him and as for Orlando, since Geoff would be working with him, he was sure they could manage to do something together.

Whatever he did, however, would have to be done fast for Geoff would leave Los Angeles in a month and there was no way he was leaving Zowie in that state. He could always offer her his apartment if she needed to disappear or get away from someone, but would that be a real solution? If his suspicions were right, then Zowie had to be taken away from more than just her current house. An idea sprung to life in his mind, but was it even possible? He would be out of the country for six long months and anything could happen while he was away. And yet, as unachievable as the idea seemed right now, Geoff still refused to discard it so easily. He just had to find a way around it.

None of them, busy as they were contemplating their own thoughts, noticed the blond man staring at them from the opposite sidewalk, nor how his handsome face darkened with every smile they shared.

While his exterior seemed calm and relaxed, Matt was fuming in the inside. So _that_ was what Zowie had been doing all along! She had been meeting this guy under his very nose, and Matt had been stupid enough not to notice it! This was the reason why she had been stealing money from him, and the sole though stoked the fire of his fury. Did Zowie honestly think he didn't realise? Matt's frown darkened. Did she think him stupid? Obviously, she did.

Who was that guy, anyway? Matt had never seen him before and if he wasn't someone he knew, then how come Zowie was there with him? Since he provided her with everything from drugs to housing, Zowie didn't need to go out much; all in all, she depended entirely on him, and that ensured she remained by his side no matter what. But this... this had never been a part of his plan, and Zowie being friendly with another guy was something he couldn't accept. He couldn't accept how familiarly that other guy acted towards Zowie, but what made Matt lose all control was seeing the way she smiled at him. In that moment, a rage as powerful as the one that had led him to punch Zowie sent Matt charging like a bull towards the café.

Seating as she was facing the door, Zowie was the first to notice how someone opened it with more violence than necessary and, curious, she looked up. Almost everyone else did the same, but only her felt anything other than mild surprise and wonder at the pair of stormy eyes that stared at her with anger blazing in them.

Dear God... what was he doing there? What was Matt doing in the café? All colour drained from Zowie's face at the sight. His entire demeanour promised trouble and Zowie winced, the pain from his punch still fresh in her memory. She had worked so hard to avoid this, so hard! What had she done wrong? When was her secret unveiled, and why hadn't she seen it coming?

Suddenly terrified, Zowie stood up, her heart thundering in her chest and her body instinctively tensing up, waiting for the blow that would surely come. She didn't know what to do next, but the implications were clear: Matt was there, yes, but more importantly, so was Geoff, and that was exactly what she had been hoping to avoid all along. She barely repressed a shiver that was a mixture of regret and fear. She had been so close... so close! Now the thought of facing the promises written in Matt's eyes filled her with panic.

Zowie had never meant for Geoff and Matt to meet, but now the latter stood there before her, a violence so obvious written in his eyes that the people around them threw wary glances at him. The look in his eyes told Zowie that Matt didn't give a damn about being in a public place and although she couldn't care less about the other customers, she did care about Geoff. What would he say or do if Matt became violent in front of everyone as she feared? Zowie shivered, her stomach twisting into a painful knot.

The moment Zowie's face took on a ghostly pale shade, all alarms went off in Geoff's head. In the span of a few seconds, countless and varied emotions played in her eyes, baring her in the way she had been avoiding ever since their first meeting. Surprise, wonder, regret, terror, they all played in her clear blue eyes as they widened with shock, but when the latter overpowered everything else, Geoff's heart twisted with a similar emotion. Then, when Zowie stood up, Geoff imitated her gesture, finally spinning on his heels to see with his own eyes exactly what had affected her so much.

But Geoff didn't quite understand at first. A guy not much older than Zowie herself approached them with a furious look on his face, and while handsome enough to attract some interested glances, something in his face reminded Geoff of Zowie: the pasty paleness, the dark circles under his eyes, the shocking thinness. None of that, however, caught Geoff's attention quite like the pure, unbridled rage that burnt in the young man's eyes and that was solely aimed at Zowie.

Alarm rose in him as his eyes went back to Zowie. She looked terrified, her face pale and her eyes wide, and although Geoff had no idea who that guy could be, he knew it was time to act. Instinctively taking a step towards her, he positioned himself between her and the young man as he assessed him quickly. Geoff didn't approve of violence, but he was more than willing to step in and defend Zowie if necessary.

But first, he needed answers. The insecure, mumbled words that escaped Zowie's lips, however, were all the answer he needed.

“Matt... what are you...?”

At that, Geoff studied the young man before him under a new light. So this was Matt. Suddenly, it all made perfect sense. Even if a number of boyfriends would be angry at finding their girlfriends having a drink with a guy they knew nothing about, Geoff had yet to see one who directed such murderous glances to his significant other the way this one did. No wonder Zowie had changed so much! If that glimpse Geoff was getting of their relationship was enough to make some guesses, then it was obvious that this was the most unhealthy bond he had ever seen.

If Matt noticed the animosity in Geoff's stance, he wasn't any affected by it the moment he tried to circle him to get to Zowie. The older man, however, moved along with him, blocking all access to the girl he sheltered behind. They shared a long, measuring look and although Geoff could see in Matt's eyes that he wanted Zowie, he'd be damned if he ever granted that wish.

“What are you doing here, Zowie?” Matt asked, his voice dripping with a honey-coated anger. “I got home and you weren't there... I missed you.”

Although his words were addressed to Zowie, Matt's eyes were fixed on Geoff as he spoke them. How did he dare stand between them? Zowie was _his_ girlfriend, his to do as he pleased! Still, Matt kept his fury under control, for nothing good would come out of forcing Zowie to do anything with this guy around, so intent on defending her. They would go home eventually, though, and when they did, Zowie would finally understand that Matt wasn't the kind of guy who could be played with.

Zowie couldn't repress the shiver that made her whole body tremble as she sidestepped Geoff, her feet echoing ominously on the tiled floor. She noticed out of the corner of her eye how he barely outstretched a hand to stop her, but choose to ignore the gesture nonetheless, unable to look up at him without giving herself away. She knew what would happen, she could read it in Matt's eyes and still, she just hoped he held himself back until they were on their own. Zowie would be able to handle it if Matt let go of his worst side in private, but if he did it there, in front of Geoff... she shivered.

“Hi, Matt.” She said, her voice coming out steadier than she had imagined, which pleased her a little. Then, cutting to the chase, she turned sideways to Geoff and added. “This is Geoff Grant, an old friend from New Zealand. Geoff, this is my boyfriend, Matt.”

There was an open plea in Zowie's eyes when she looked up at Geoff, one that made all her changes even more noticeable and painful to him. The old Zowie would have never backed down no matter who pushed her, but this new Zowie... she only begged for help. What had this guy done to her?

“Matt Hudson, I presume.” Geoff said, extending a tentative hand in the blond man's direction. “I'm Geoff. Old friend of Zowie's dad and Zowie herself.”

The hint of a smile that crossed Matt's lips told Geoff he hadn't missed his barely concealed warning, although it seemed to have no effect on him whatsoever. Smugness and arrogance surrounded him like a halo, and the thorough look he gave Geoff as he shook his hand told the older man that Matt wasn't the least intimidated by him.

“Nice to meet you, Geoff Grant.” Matt taunted him with a mocking tone. “It's great to finally meet someone from Zowie's past. I'm really looking forward to swapping stories about her.”

There was something in the way he spoke those words, in the tone he used, that made it obvious to Geoff that Matt meant far much more than what those simple words implied. Matt was threatening Zowie with sharing stories she obviously didn't want Geoff to know anything about, and his dislike for Matt grew to unknown proportions. Once again, he regretted not being a violent man; otherwise, he would have placed a well deserved punch in the middle of Matt's handsome face, wondering if that could teach him the manners he obviously lacked.

She might have remained silent as the men exchanged taunting comments hidden behind fake politeness, but Zowie knew she had to step in before all hell broke loose. Everything in Matt screamed for a confrontation and although she knew he didn't fear bringing it to completion, Zowie did trust Geoff to keep a cool head on his shoulders. When the men sized each other for the umpteenth time, nevertheless, Zowie knew it was time to act. Nothing would save her from Matt's fury the minute they were on their own, but she could at least try and stop the worst from happening in front of Geoff. She still trembled with fear, though, and her head throbbed with the fresh memory of the pain she had experienced not long ago.

“Geoff.” She said as she came to a stop between both men. “What do you say we continue this some other time? I forgot I had promised to be home early and...”

Zowie's voice trailed off, but that was all Geoff needed. She could try and mask it as anything else, but the terror in her eyes was unmistakable and it tore his heart to pieces. How could she possibly ask him to let her go when his entire being warned him that something horrible would happen? Geoff couldn't let her walk away with the man he was positive had caused such change in her.

“Are you sure?”

Zowie could have cried with frustration. Couldn't Geoff see she was begging him for help? It was only a matter of minutes until Matt exploded and that was something she couldn't allow.

“I'm sorry, Geoff.” Zowie finally answered, hoping to sound regretful and fearing she had only sounded pleading. “Matt and I had plans and I forgot all about them. I hope you don't mind me leaving so suddenly, but... I have to go.”

She had barely finished her sentence when Matt took her hand in his. It wasn't a supportive, loving gesture, though, and only Zowie's sheer determination kept her features trained and from showing the pain his steely grip brought her.

Zowie's pleading eyes and Matt's smug expression – Geoff's gaze went from one to the other before he realised he had no choice in the matter.

“Okay, then. Don't worry. I'll see you soon, right?”

Fear and relief crashed inside Zowie. She had made a decision and while the outcome had been clear all along, she had managed to avoid it from happening in front of Geoff. Why hadn't she asked for help when she had the time? A feeling of dread crept up inside her, and Zowie wondered whether it was too late now.

“Sure, Geoff. I'll let you know. I have to go now... again, I'm so sorry I have to leave like this.” She said, her breath quickening with every second that took her closer to being at Matt's will.

Geoff leaned in, kissing her cheek as he gently squeezed her free hand.

“I'll be waiting. You know where to find me.”

She didn't miss the true meaning behind those words. Geoff could see something was wrong there, and he was offering the help she had never dared to ask for. With a knotted throat, she nodded just as Matt began to drag her away, attempting a quick wave goodbye as they hastily left the café making a sight that Geoff knew would be forever engraved in his heart. He shouldn't have let her go. He should have stood his ground and keep Zowie by his side. But he hadn't, and the feeling that she now walked to her doom was almost too heavy on Geoff's shoulders. Defeated, he hung his head low.

He should have never let her go.

~*~

Although Matt hadn't said a word on the way home, Zowie could feel the hostility radiating off him in an almost physical way, and fear numbed her senses. Each step she took on the staircase that led to their apartment resounded in her brain and she found she could barely breath as terror chocked her. A whimper almost escaped her lips, but Zowie bit it back; showing fear would take her nowhere. When the door behind her closed with an ominous click, however, Zowie's heart hammered inside her as her wary eyes took on Matt's tense frame. That was it. Whatever was coming, she would have to face it on her own.

“Who's that guy?”

Matt walked to the window and although his back was turned towards her, the coldness in his voice still made Zowie's stomach twist.

“I already told you.” She answered, hoping against hope to reason with Matt. “Geoff is an old friend of my dad's. They used to work together in New Zealand, and now he's here. That's all.”

Slowly, Matt spun on his heels to give her a frigid, yet furious look with his stony blue eyes.

“Have you always been in touch with him?”

Zowie's eyes widened in disbelief.

“God, Matt, no! I bumped into him on the streets some weeks ago. He insisted on meeting for a cup of coffee so we could catch up, but that's it.”

Approaching her in a way that chilled her blood, Matt stood mere inches away from her, his eyes piercing on hers.

“Something is going on between you two, Zowie. I know it! I saw you two together, stop lying!”

“What?” Zowie was so shocked, she could barely understand what Matt was talking about. “Me and Geoff... together? Matt, are you even listening to yourself? Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds? It's simply-”

Zowie never got the chance to end her statement for a strong blow hit her jaw, blinding her with a sheer pain that coursed her entire being.

So there it was... what Matt's eyes and attitude had been promising all along. She had known it would happen, but that didn't mean it hurt any less; in fact, the agony was so strong, Zowie feared he had seriously injured her.

“I'm not crazy! Stop lying to me, you whore!” Matt bellowed and Zowie curled up into herself in a defensive, pitiful gesture. “You honestly think I believe that _old friends_ crap you're giving me?”

Looking up at him with terror in her eyes, Zowie tried to answer, tried to defend herself, but her jaw hurt so much, she could barely part her lips. That gesture didn't please Matt, however, who grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back with such power, Zowie's head hit the wall. A blinding pain exploded in her brain, stars and black spots dancing before her eyes for long moments as she let her tears flow free. Matt would never understand for he _didn't_ want to understand, but stubbornly, Zowie went on.

“Matt, please...”

She had been right. Nothing would make sense to Matt now, not in his fury, and all that her desperate pleading got her was another blow, one that hit her just above the previous one and that made her cry out with terror and pain. How far would this go? Would Matt ever have enough? Zowie feared for her safety and as she did, she cursed herself for not having asked for Geoff's help while she still could. It might as well be too late now.

Roughly pushing her against the wall once again, her feet barely brushing the floor, Matt growled, his eyes shooting blue daggers at her.

“You're _not_ seeing that guy again, you hear me? And if you do, Zowie... I swear to God... if I ever find out you're seeing him and sleeping with him behind my back, I swear to God I'll kill you.”

Although Zowie gasped in terror, deep down inside she knew it wasn't Matt's threat what terrified her so much; it was the certainty that he wasn't afraid to bring it to completion. He truly meant the promise he had made, and the cold than ran through Zowie at that was one she had never felt before. She could be self-destructive. She could have made a million mistakes in the past, but this... this went beyond anything she had ever imagined and her heart pounded so hard Zowie feared it would explode, killing her before Matt did.

He smiled, obviously pleased to see his threat had hit home. But he wasn't done yet; he had the feeling the message hadn't been clear enough. Curling his hand into a fist, he then slammed it into Zowie's stomach with a blow that carried all the strength he possessed. He didn't allow her to double over, though; he kept her in place as Zowie cried her agony and terror with loud sobs that only increased her torture.

“You're nothing without me, Zowie. Remember that.” Matt whispered threateningly in her ear. “The clothes you're wearing, the food you eat, the drugs you love so much... they're all mine. You won't last a week out there if I decide to kick you out and believe me, I will if I ever find out you're as much as seeing that guy again. Set your priorities straight, baby, or I'll do it for you.”

His harsh, ominous words echoing in the haze of terror that clouded Zowie, Matt left the apartment, slamming the door closed behind him with such might, she was sure the walls had trembled under the attack. Gasping for breath as pain spread throughout her body, tears of sheer terror streaming down her face, Zowie collapsed on her knees, her brain spinning at a speed that made it impossible for her to have more than one single rational thought, the one that pushed itself to the very front through her fear.

How had it come to that? When had things spun so out of control that her abused body now cried with agony as a death threat hung over her head? Something inside her wished to believe Matt would never bring his promise to completion, but the glaring evidence that surrounded her, the one she felt in every fibre of her body, managed to bring that idea down in a matter of seconds. How could she still think there was some good left inside him? Still cringing with pain, Zowie's body slid down until she was curled up on the floor, whimpering as fear mixed with pain.

She would never know how it was that the thought finally formed in her mind, but when it did, it became painfully clear that she couldn't ignore it anymore. She needed help. Admitting it was hard, even to herself, but Zowie couldn't pledge ignorance and pretend that the though hadn't been in the back of her mind all along. Why else, then, had she sought any sort of relationship with Geoff? She could have very well never answered his calls and yet she had, hoping to have someone to turn to should things take a turn for the worse. Her mind, even altered by drugs, had been clear enough to make that idea a top priority. It wouldn't be easy to say the words, but if Zowie wanted to come out of this alive, all pride would have to be left aside.

And who else could she trust in, if not Geoff? She had known him all her life, and no matter how hard she tried to ignore it, Zowie could see he was aware of everything that happened to her, even if he hadn't quite figured out the finer details yet. If he wasn't the right one to trust in, then who was? Elijah's name popped in her mind, but Zowie discarded it as quickly as it came. They hadn't been in touch in years; he could very well be on the other end of the world for all that she knew, and besides, who said he still cared for her? _Rings_ had happened years ago. Her life had moved on, if only not in the way she had anticipated, and Elijah's surely had too. Contacting him would most likely end up in her waiting for a response that would never come.

Given the current circumstances, it was glaringly obvious that Geoff was her only option. She had no friends in Los Angeles and the very few people she knew were Matt's friends, meaning they would never turn against him. The other people she trusted in lived on the other end of the world, and Zowie would much rather keep them at bay, at least, until she managed to find a way out of the mess she was in.

Her body still craving the blissful oblivion of the drugs, Zowie closed her eyes tight, trying to restrain herself for the first time in a long time. It had been so much easier when the goal in her mind had been finding her dream job and meeting the man she loved! Now, the mess she was in made her want to turn to her habits with a renewed intensity.

She wanted to forget, but she couldn't. She needed to be as aware as possible, if only to try and figure out what Matt's next step would be. Even as she begrudgingly made up her mind about asking Geoff for help, Zowie knew she would have to keep her intentions to herself for an undisclosed period of time. Matt would be watching her every move and if Zowie didn't want her plan to fail or be discovered, then she would have to play it as nonchalant as possible.

She wouldn't contact Geoff that day and probably, neither would she the following one or the day after that; however, the chance would eventually come. Zowie would just have to learn to wait until Matt let his guard down enough for her to move around as freely as usual. As much as he hated the idea, Matt would have to go back to his normal life and once his vigilance decreased, she would do it. She was sure of that.

She just hoped to have enough time to do it.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9.**

 

As much as Geoff tried to let go and enjoy the massive, incredible event he was part of, he couldn't; too much went through his head, making it impossible for him to relax and admire what unfolded before his eyes. After all, how many movies demanded _two theatres_ to be premièred? It was an unstoppable, overwhelming parade of stars, fans, cameras and flashes, and although the party of the century was taking place around him, all Geoff could see was the look of pure terror in Zowie's face.

It was an image that made his heart twist with fear every time, and his urge to help Zowie took on a whole new dimension after what Matt's sole presence did to her. He shook his head, puzzled. Why did Zowie put up with that? The girl he knew would have never taken that kind of attitude and behaviour from anyone, and she would have stood her ground no matter what. But that had changed now and instead, nothing but fear showed on her face at the sight of her boyfriend.

He hadn't heard from her ever since. Geoff had considered giving her a call, but had the feeling it would only bring her trouble. It killed him, since he had the feeling he was wasting some precious time that he was risking her in a way he couldn't even imagine.

In the meantime, Geoff had busied himself coming up with the most appropriate strategy to follow, and although there weren't that many options to begin with, one thing was clear: he _had_ to take Zowie away. Something was killing her spirit, killing her essence, and that something had a name: Matt. The only way Zowie could return to her old self was get away from that guy, and Geoff was ready to forcefully drag her away if necessary.

But there had been another issue going around in his mind since that eventful afternoon in the café: should Geoff let William know what was going on? Responsibility ordered him to; after all, he had the right to know what was wrong with his daughter. Nevertheless, Geoff knew that doing that would turn Zowie against him. She had opened up to him, no matter how little, and he didn't want that door to slam closed. Did Geoff really want to lose that, lose her in the hands of an abusive guy? Geoff almost shook his head. William would hate him for keeping him in the dark, but in that instant, Zowie was much more important than her dad.

But to make his plan come to life, Geoff needed help and for that, he needed to convince the right people that his plan wasn't as insane as it seemed. That taking Zowie with him while he was away working could actually be done.

When hired for _'Kingdom of Heaven'_ , Geoff had been given the chance to form his own work team. He had gathered people he had met in the several productions he had been working in since arriving in the country, but there was still room for another person or two if he presented it to the producers the right way.

And there was where Zowie came in. She might not have the same experience the others did but she was, without a doubt, far more skilled than Geoff himself; she could catch up in no time. It solved two problems at once: on one hand, it completed Geoff's team and on the other, it took Zowie away from Los Angeles and from Matt to a place and a situation that could only benefit her. She loved sword fighting and Geoff was willing to bet she would begin to improve the moment she held a sword in her hand. And if none of that worked to convince her, there was always the Orlando factor, which would surely be enough to at least lure her in.

Thinking of Orlando brought Geoff back to the matter at hand, and he threw a careful look around. Convincing the producers was vital, but so was enlisting Elijah and Orlando on his side. Elijah was the friend Zowie had always been able to trust in and hopefully, he could still work her magic on her. Geoff wasn't worried about Lij; unless he had changed drastically, he expected to count him in his venture right away.

Orlando, however, was a completely different matter. So much had changed for him since _Rings_ had taken place that Geoff couldn't be entirely sure the young actor was still the same guy he had met. Elijah had been in the business all his life and little surprised him anymore, but Orlando... no one could have the kind of success he had had in such a short period of time and remain the same. Could Geoff count on him to vouch for Zowie with the producers of _'Kingdom of Heaven'_ should the need arise? And, above all, did Orlando remember Zowie at all? How many other girls had come to his life after her? Geoff only hoped Orlando did, and that he acted accordingly. If only, for old times' sake.

But there was so many people coming and going around Geoff, so many flashes that blinded him, so many screaming fans deafening him to almost everything around him, what if he missed the actors? He cast another look around, his brown eyes dark with worry. He tried the area where the actors met with the press, but it was even worse there; a sea of personal assistants, press agents and countless other people made it impossible for him to even reach the red carpet. A light of desperation began to flicker to life inside Geoff, for he knew very well that, should he miss the actors there, his chances of seeing them again soon were slim. Even Orlando, he would only be meeting him in about two weeks time, and that was too long considering what he had witnessed. Geoff forced himself to take a deep breath and shake the desperation off of his shoulders as he took another careful glance around. They _were_ there; he just needed to look more attentively.

“Geoff? Geoff Grant?”

The hustle around him hadn't allowed Geoff to hear anyone approaching him, but the second that voice reached his ears, a relief so big flowed inside him, he felt his knees going weak. He would recognise that voice anywhere!

“Elijah!” Geoff exclaimed when he spun on his heels to meet the younger man's smiling blue eyes. Before Elijah could even utter an answer, however, Geoff had taken him in his arms for a strong hug and a pat in his back that made the actor shake a little. Geoff was almost incapable of holding himself back at the sight of the man before him. “How are you? Isn't this... well, _mess_ incredible?”

Elijah laughed at Geoff's choice of words. It was a mess indeed; a well thought and organised one, but a mess nonetheless.

“It sure is! I'm still not quite sure what how I', supposed to deal with this whole thing. Wellington was amazing and I really enjoyed it, but this... this is crazy.” Elijah's eyes were wide, showing his obvious delight at meeting the colleague he hadn't seen in such a long time. “I'm great, Geoff. I'm really enjoying myself even if I haven't had a proper night sleep in, like, a week.” When Geoff smiled, Elijah patted his arm. “It's been ages, man! How are you doing? Last time I was in New Zealand for some pick up shots, Peter told me you had moved to Los Angeles. I didn't know where to find you; otherwise I would have contacted you. How long have you been here?”

“I moved here little over a year ago.” Geoff explained. “I had a great time in New Zealand and I got jobs all the time, but I thought I'd give Hollywood a try.”

Elijah nodded.

“How did it go?”

“Great so far. I've been lucky to enough to be working ever since. In fact, I have this big project coming, and I'm travelling overseas in a few weeks.”

“I'm really happy for you, Geoff.” Elijah said, a sincere smile on his lips. Then, his eyes taking on a curious shade, he added. “How's everyone in New Zealand doing? I mean William and everyone else.”

Had Geoff tried to find a way to bring Zowie into the conversation, he would have never achieved one as smooth as this one. Now it would be the chance to see if he could count him in.

“William is good. He's still working in Wellington, and with so many people wanting to work in New Zealand after _Rings_ was released, I'm sure he's quite busy right now.”

“That's got to be it.” Elijah mused, more to himself than in Geoff's benefit. Then, when reading the curious expression in the older man's face, he explained. “I thought I'd see him in Wellington a few days ago, but I was told he was away working.” Then, as if a sudden thought had just struck him, Elijah looked up at Geoff with a questioning look on his face. “Have you heard from Zowie? We used to email each other all the time, but I haven't heard from her in ages. I too hoped to see her in New Zealand, but she wasn't there.”

There was an answer Geoff hadn't quite been expecting to get: to find out that Zowie had never mentioned being in Los Angeles in the emails she had exchanged with Elijah. Why?

But although he was full of new questions, Geoff knew this was the moment he had been looking for. It wouldn't be easy to bring such a delicate topic up with thousands of people around them, with flashes going off and cameras and screaming fans, but Geoff would have to make do nonetheless; dire matters demanded dire actions.

“Actually Elijah, Zowie's here. In Los Angeles.”

Eyes widening, Elijah's lips parted with shock. Zowie, in Los Angeles?

“You mean she's here? Tonight?” He went as far as standing on his tiptoes as he looked around for her.

“Not tonight, Lij... sorry.” Geoff explained with sincere regret, hating to bring down the young man's hope. “I mean she's been living here for quite some time. Almost three years now.”

The look of surprise in Elijah's face would have been funny hadn't William had more pressing concerns in his mind than simple amusement. If he had needed a confirmation that Zowie had indeed kept her moving to Los Angeles a secret from Elijah that was it.

“Three years? But then... she was here without even telling me!” Elijah exclaimed. “I can't remember exactly when was the last time I heard from her, but I know for a fact that we emailed each other almost every day for quite some after _Rings_ ended. It must have been almost a year, and she never told me she was here...”

Elijah and Geoff shared an intrigued, confused look, their sources shared by both men, although taking different forms in each of them. While Elijah wondered why Zowie had never told him they were living in the same city, as well as he once again tried to understand why she had stopped writing him, Geoff couldn't help but question himself what had made Zowie act that way. Why had she lied to Elijah all along? Why had Zowie kept such an important fact secret from him, considering how close they were? What did she want to prove, what did she want to achieve before telling him she was nothing but a few miles away from him? He had gone as far as looking for her in Wellington nothing but two days ago, which meant he still cared about her. What else did Geoff need to understand that he had been right when thinking Elijah was the right one to help him with Zowie?

Throwing a quick look around, Geoff cursed the horde of people around them. He hated bringing Zowie to discussion this way, but also knew there was no time to waste, so lowering his voice so no one but Elijah could hear, Geoff turned to the younger man with Elijah with a determined expression on his face.

“Look, I wish there could be a nicer, smoother way to bring this up, but there isn't.” He said, and the change in Elijah's face at his tone was obvious. “I've seen Zowie. She pretends to be fine, but I can see through her façade. She needs help, Elijah, and she needs it now. I hate to bring this up right here, right now, but I need to get to her, I need to get her out of Los Angeles and fast, and for that, I need your help.”

No other words were needed for Elijah to understand the deep seriousness of the matter. Geoff's expression had changed as drastically as a bright day turned into the darkest, moonless night, and a shiver of uneasiness coursed him.

“What's wrong with her, Geoff?” Elijah asked, his face suddenly clouded with concern. “Is Zowie alright?”

“Honestly? I don't know.” Thoughtfully rubbing the back of his neck, Geoff sighed before briefly filling Elijah in all the details he needed to know. It was only fair of him, since if Elijah agreed to help him, he might as well be embarking on something that could end up being very problematic. “I need to get her away from that guy, Elijah... She's not safe with him and even now, as we speak, only God knows how she's doing.” Looking down, Geoff sighed once again. “He was ready to hit her, Elijah. I'm sure that, hadn't I been there, he would have done it, even in front of everyone.”

Elijah's face paled at Geoff's revelations. It was too much, too intense... too much to try and work his head around it, to even begin to comprehend. Zowie? The girl he knew wasn't anything like the girl Geoff was talking about, and it made it even more difficult to grasp.

“I shouldn't have brought this up, Lij. Not right now.” Geoff's said with his voice full of regret. He honestly wished there had been another chance, another way to bring the topic up, but he knew there wasn't time to waste. Nevertheless, guilt rose inside Geoff when realising he had probably ruined what otherwise should have been an unforgettable night for Elijah.

“Oh no, no... I'm glad you brought this up, Geoff.” Elijah hurried to add, his blue eyes staring at him with honest sincerity. With a frown that showed his concern, he then asked. “Do you know how she's doing? I mean, have you talked to her or anything?”

Geoff's loud sigh was enough of an answer for Elijah.

“I haven't. I'm afraid it will only cause her even more trouble.” His shoulders lowered, a heavy burden on them. “Maybe I should wait until Zowie contacts me herself, I don't know. I've thought about it, but every time I do, I can't help feeling that I'm wasting time. What if it's too late? Or even worse, what if she tries to protect Matt like she did in the café?”

Elijah nodded thoughtfully, understanding each and every bit of Geoff's concern and hesitation for the same emotions ran wildly inside him, clouding his mind with the most varied and dreaded scenarios. Yet, at the same time, confusion coiled up inside him. Why had Zowie lied to him? They had gone through a lot together and she had always relied on him. She hadn't been in her best shape when he left New Zealand, but that didn't explain her behaviour. There had been a nagging suspicion back then, Elijah now remembered, that now pushed itself forward once again, one he wasn't sure he should share with Geoff. He remembered Zowie at her lowest, remembered her sudden, unexplainable joy in a club one night, how he had thought that couldn't be possible without external aid. Elijah had seen it plenty of times before in other people and recognised it right away, but had always refused to believe Zowie could do something like that. Could Zowie truly be doing drugs?

Elijah sighed when thinking of Zowie. Why was it that men always ended up hurting her? Her dad had kept a whole other side of his life hidden from her. Orlando had hurt her far more than he could even imagine, from the minute he had let her believe something other than a friendship could ever exist between them, to the moment he had broken Zowie's heart when she realised he didn't even remember making love to her. And now with her boyfriend being physically abusive towards her, it was a surprise she even trusted men altogether.

That was enough for Elijah to make his mind up. He was very aware that he and Geoff were probably getting themselves in far more trouble they could handle, but they owed it to Zowie. Geoff had known her all her life, and Elijah would never forget everything that they had shared in New Zealand, as well as the bond that had existed between them. If Zowie was in any danger, then the least he could do was offer her a helping hand.

“I'm in, Geoff.” He stated, a look of sheer determination on his face. “Count me in.”

A slow smile spread Geoff's lips, and although some of the heavy weight lifted from his shoulders at knowing he wasn't alone in this endeavour, he still couldn't shake off the feeling that told him time was slipping between his fingers like sand, and that they couldn't wait much longer.

“I want to take her out of Los Angeles, Lij. I want her as far away from this place and that guy as possible. You and I... we both know how stubborn Zowie can be. If she is convinced that there's absolutely nothing wrong with the way she is living, then pretty much nothing will be able to convince her. Then is when you come in. If we fail, however, I still have an ace up my sleeve.”

At those words, Geoff's face took on the slightest hint of slyness, becoming plain for Elijah to see that, whatever that secret weapon he had was, Geoff was more than certain that Zowie would never be able to resist it.

“An ace up your sleeve?” Elijah couldn't repress his curiosity any longer. “What are you talking about, Geoff?”

Geoff didn't answer. Instead, something over Elijah's shoulder caught his attention. With a small smile playing on his lips, Geoff's index finger pointed to the distance, a gesture Elijah couldn't ignore and glancing over his shoulder, Elijah's eyes met those of a person who, with a wide smile, approached them with quick, agile steps.

Orlando.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10.**

 

The sole sight of Orlando brought a spark to Geoff's eyes that Elijah couldn't quite understand at first. They shone as if the older man had been given a chance he wasn't sure he was ever going to get and suddenly, it all made sense. The ace up Geoff's sleeve... was Orlando.

“Geoff! So glad to see you, man!”

Geoff allowed himself a brief moment of relief the moment Orlando took him in his arms for a tight hug. He had been in such fear of missing the actors, of not being able to approach them, that having both Elijah and Orlando before him filled his heart with a new hope. Elijah had already promised his help. Would Orlando do the same?

“Orlando! So nice to see you.” Geoff said posing his hands on the actor's shoulders. “How are you? How's Hollywood's hottest bachelor doing?”

Orlando grimaced, but he willed the smile to return to his face. The words _bachelor_ and _heartthrob_ never failed to make him cringe, but he knew Geoff meant no true harm with his statement. He would much rather have people concentrating on his acting talent and not on his looks, but it was all part of the game, he reminded himself; one he could have easily done without, of course, but one he had to coexist with nonetheless. He pushed those sombre thoughts aside, though, not wanting them to spoil his mood the way they always did.

“Aside from the bachelor thing, I'm doing great.” He said with a smile, patting Geoff's arm. “But how are you, what have you been up to? Elijah and I were talking about you a few days ago. You know we were in New Zealand for the première over there, right?”

“Yes, Elijah here just told me all about it. Big party, wasn't it?” Orlando nodded and inching closer to him, Geoff slipped his hands in the pockets of his trousers. “I'm doing great, Orlando... I couldn't possibly complain. I moved to Los Angeles some time ago and I've been busy working ever since. In fact, I think you'll be surprised to find out who will be coaching you in your next movie.”

The puzzled look that took over Orlando's face at Geoff's mysterious words was amusing; however, the older man was much too conscious of all the things that were at stake there to enjoy it freely.

“No way!” Orlando exclaimed suddenly, all confusion gone and replaced by recognition and happiness. A wide smile lightening up his handsome features, Orlando then patted Geoff's arm heartily as if he had just been given the best piece of news of the year. “That's so cool! It will be great to have a familiar face there.” With a sigh, he then added. “I have to admit that the idea is a bit... well, _very_ intimidating, actually, because I've been involved in huge things like _Rings_ , but it's never rested entirely on my shoulders.”

Geoff smiled sympathetically and was about to express his support with courteous words when Elijah beat him at it.

“You'll do great, Orlando. You may not have all the experience in the world, but like you said, you've been part of some very big things... that has to count for something, right?” Then, lightening the atmosphere, Elijah added. “Besides, if you ever wonder what it feels like to be a real star, you can always give me a call. I might be one, but I don't mind giving you any advice for free.”

Orlando rolled his eyes at Elijah's teasing, shaking his head with a smile that belied his gesture. But that wasn't all Elijah wanted to say, Geoff noticed as the younger man gave him a look of complicity before speaking once again.

“Geoff and I were just talking about Zowie.”

Geoff was shocked at first, but gratefulness soon spread throughout his body at Elijah's straightforwardness. Geoff himself had been so busy looking for the most suitable way to bring Zowie up, that he had overlooked the most logical way of doing it: by simply mentioning her. It hadn't gone unnoticed to Elijah, though, and Geoff understood that Lij might not be entirely aware of his plans, but that the basics of it hadn't gone missing to him.

“Zowie? Is she here?”

The way Orlando reacted to the sole and casual mention of Zowie filled Geoff's heart with a new certainty. There was expectation in his brown eyes, a sparkle of something akin to joy that was all Geoff needed. When Orlando looked around, standing on his tiptoes and straining his neck to look over the mass of people surrounding them, Geoff felt hope renewing in his heart. Orlando hadn't forgotten Zowie. He wanted to see her! Geoff couldn't say how deeply Orlando felt for Zowie or what he would do if he saw her right there  and then, but knowing she still had a place in his heart was enough to reassure him that he had made the right choice.

“Sadly, no, she isn't here.” Geoff said, and the disappointment that darkened Orlando's joyful and expectant features made his relief and determination grow. Then, deciding this was as a good a time as any to start prodding for the answers he needed, Geoff's eyes narrowed as he stared at Orlando. “Would you have liked to see her?”

In response, Orlando gave him a look that could have only been described as admonishing, deeply aggravated by the implications in Geoff's words.

“Of course I would have liked to see her! What kind of a question is that?” Orlando shook his head. “It's been ages since I last heard from her, but that doesn't mean I never think about her or about everything we shared in New Zealand. That we _all_ shared, and you probably know what I'm talking about better than anyone, don't you, Lij?”

Elijah nodded. If Orlando only knew _all_ the things he and Zowie had gone through...

“Well, that's exactly the reason why we were talking about her.” Elijah explained.

Orlando nodded. He felt guilty for somehow snapping at Geoff, but the fact that the older man had hinted that Orlando had never cared about Zowie had upset him greatly. He might not have seen her in a long time, but that didn't mean he could forget about her that easily.

“Did you know she's here in Los Angeles, Orlando?”

His eyes widened at Geoff's sudden and unexpected revelation.

“What? When did she leave New Zealand? And why? I mean, she had promised her dad she would finally attend University and get her degree once _Rings_ ended but...” Orlando's words trailed off. The sole mention of William brought forward the intense pain that unveiling his secret had brought to Zowie, and his questions seemed silly all of a sudden. “But why did she come here, anyway? Everyone she knows is in New Zealand. Besides, what family she has overseas lives in England, it would have been much more natural if she moved there instead of here.”

“Zowie came here to become a coach, Orlando. A swordfighting coach in movies. The job William did in _Rings_ , the one I'm doing right now.”

Something in the way Geoff spoke those words, in the expression on his face, told Orlando that this went beyond a simple conversation about a common friend. Something else was at play there, and concern slowly spread throughout his body. Had something happened to Zowie?

“Have you seen her?” While the question was directed at both, only Geoff nodded. “How is she?” His concern was sincere. For some reason, all those stories of people coming to Hollywood to make it big and failing in the process swirled in his head. When Geoff hesitated and he and Elijah shared a quick look, Orlando felt his stomach twisting with dread. “Is Zowie alright?”

Here we go again, Geoff mused. He had not only ruined a special evening for one person, he was about to ruin it for two.

“I hate to bring this up right now, Orlando. Believe me, I wish there was a way I could erase this whole thing and tell you all about it some other time, but time's the one thing we don't have right now.” Orlando's face grew pale. “She was alright last time I saw her some days ago, but I need to get her out of this city, Orlando. Zowie's in danger.”

If Orlando thought his shock couldn't be any bigger, he was in for a huge surprise.

“In danger? What's wrong with her?” He asked, his eyes wide with alarm.

“Her boyfriend.” Elijah answered, taking the explaining duties from Geoff. When Orlando gave him an utterly shocked look, he went on. “I only know what Geoff here told me just minutes ago, right before you came over. But he met this guy some days ago, and he seemed ready to beat Zowie up just for having a drink with Geoff in a café in broad daylight.”

The revelation hit Orlando like a punch in the stomach. Zowie... his mind conjured images of their time together in New Zealand. She had been so young, so fresh, so happy and sure of herself... until William's secret had been uncovered. Back then, Zowie had found in Orlando the comfort she hadn't been able to get elsewhere, and although he had promised to stay in touch, he had never fulfilled his promise and guilt overwhelmed him now. Zowie had never stopped to think when it came to helping him in New Zealand, and _this_ was how he repaid her?

“I can't believe it.” He mumbled, his face still pale. “But... how? How did she end up with someone like him?”

“I don't know. You know Zowie... she won't give you the smallest piece of information if she doesn't want to, no matter how many ways you try to convince her that you are worth trusting in.” Geoff said, a slight bitterness in his tone. “All I know is that she met him about a year ago and that she has been living with him for quite some time as well. I don't know him, Orlando... I don't know Matt at all, but what I saw was enough to show me that Zowie needs help, and fast. Elijah here has agreed to help me. Can I count you in?”

Geoff knew there was no use on beating around the bush anymore. He needed a straight answer, and for that, he needed to voice a straight, unmistakable question.

Orlando was taken by surprise by Geoff's straightforwardness, but a quick look at him and Elijah told him all he needed to know. Zowie had done everything she could for him while in New Zealand, had put herself in trouble more times than he could possibly remember now, no questions asked. It was his turn to help now. Zowie needed him, and there was obviously no time to waste.

“Sure, Geoff.” Orlando said, his voice firm and steady. “I'm in.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11.**

 

Coordinating a plan wasn't easy. With Elijah and Orlando both flying to different parts of the world, trying to come up with a coordinated effort to help Zowie proved to be very difficult. None of that, however, put a damper on their intentions and Geoff was greatly surprised. Although he had known deep inside that both men couldn't have forgotten all about Zowie, he hadn't been too sure what to expect; in fact, Geoff had been more prepared for some polite and courteous questions and maybe a sympathetic smile, but not much else. He was in for a huge surprise, though, when Elijah offered everything from time, to his house and even money, and when Orlando offered to do everything he could to help Geoff get Zowie in his training team.

That was the part that worried Geoff the most, however. While the producers had given him complete freedom to put his team together at first, they now hesitated over adding another person to it – especially a twenty-one-year-old with very little experience. Geoff had sworn over and over again that he would make himself responsible for whatever Zowie did wrong, but he still didn't have a certain answer. Orlando was doing his own thing, but Geoff wasn't sure how big his influence could be or whether that would backfire on them or Zowie later on and, for the first time, the possibility of not being able to take Zowie away with him made Geoff analyse Elijah's offer under a new light. At first, the idea of using Lij's house hadn't made much sense to him, but given the circumstances, Geoff now began to understand what the young actor had meant. If Geoff couldn't take Zowie with him, then leaving her in Elijah's house was the next best option. She would still be in the same city as Matt but hopefully, out of his reach. It wasn't the idea he felt most comfortable with, but he would have to accept it if that was all he could do.

With his mind made up, and with opportunities spreading out before him, his jog took on a renewed speed. While he always stayed fit, knowing it was a must in his line of work, he looked forward to earning some extra stamina and resistance before flying to Spain. While _Rings_ had taken longer than any other production Geoff had known of, _Kingdom of Heaven_ was still very ambitious on its own, and Geoff had no idea how much workout he would be able to do while in location; that was why he had gone out for a long jog, enjoying the soft winter morning sun as he did. As relaxed as he could be given the circumstances, Geoff had purposefully left his cell phone behind, wanting to keep his mind clear and hoping to come up with another idea, another plan to keep Zowie safe.

It would be almost too late when he realised that the best way to help her would be by keeping his phone with him at all times.

~*~

Desperation rose inside Zowie when, for the third time that morning, she dialled Geoff's number and got no other response but a dull ringing on the other end. She commanded herself to stay calm, nonetheless, and in as much control of herself as possible; after all, she had only been given one chance, and she wasn't going to waste it.

Still, she couldn't help the dread that rose inside her like an unstoppable wave. Ending the call with a muttered curse that was tinted with fear, Zowie drew in a shaky breath. It wouldn't be easy to admit that she needed help, and although her stomach twisted with hesitation and humiliation at the sole thought, she knew she had to. Matt's behaviour had told her as much.

Two weeks, she mused. Two weeks had passed since he had walked into the café, two weeks in which Matt had hovered over her, reminding Zowie with both his words and his actions that she didn't stand a chance without him. That, should she leave his side, it would be a mistake that would most likely cost her life. It wasn't an empty threat, Zowie realised with a shiver; knowing Matt, he surely looked forward to the moment when he could make his promise come true.

Although she had done everything she could to assure him that she understood his not-so-subtle message, Matt still watched over her like a hawk ready to strike at the smallest sign of rebellion. He had stayed by her side day and night and just to give her a glimpse of what life without him would be like, Matt had cut down the drugs he used to give away so freely and Zowie, having quickly developed an addiction to heroin, was now learning first hand what cold turkey was... and how horrible it could be.

There were times when Zowie wondered if Matt's sadistic side found pleasure in watching her as she writhed on the bed, cold sweat trickling down her skin as cramps pierced her muscles, or when, her body shivering without control, she barely managed to make it to the bathroom before the nausea overpowered her. But there were times when she didn't make it, and it was then that she would find Matt staring at her from above as she collapsed on the floor, his eyes evil sapphires that glinted with satisfaction and delight. _“This is what you'll get if you leave me,”_ they seemed to say. _“And this is only the beginning.”_

Zowie dreaded the withdrawal but, at the same time, feared getting her next fix. Her forced abstinence had left her in the same situation she had been avoiding for so long: her mind clear, she could do little else but think. It was ironic that, after running away from it, she had come to realise that thinking and staying clean were exactly what she needed in that instant.

Yet, regardless of how much Matt revelled on torturing Zowie or on trying to break her spirit, he had business to attend to, business that demanded he left the house for long periods of time. Zowie could read the struggle in his eyes, could see the inner debate unleashed inside him. He couldn't leave his business unattended for long but, could he trust Zowie enough to leave her alone? In the end, Zowie had realised that Matt only had one option, and it played in her favour.

He hadn't said a thing as he left, but the look he gave her over his shoulder couldn't be mistaken. Humbly, Zowie had lowered her head, not lifting her gaze from the floor until the door was closed and she heard Matt making his way down the stairs. Then, her heart beating madly in her chest, she had rushed to the window and had stared through the dirty white curtains as Matt entered the car that had come to pick him up. He looked up once, and Zowie quickly hid from his view, not sure the old curtains could conceal her silhouette.

She had waited several minutes by the window in case Matt came back, but even though she had to take such precautions, she could feel precious time slipping by before she dared to get the cell phone she had kept hidden since her first meeting with Geoff. Now, taking a few deep breaths, Zowie tried to still the wild thumping of her heart as she cradled the phone in her hands. Where was he, for God's sake? Hadn't he repeatedly told her she could contact him whenever she needed to? Well, she needed him now! But still Geoff didn't pick up, and anxiety brewed inside Zowie. She checked the time. Not an hour had passed since Matt had left and if her calculations were right, he could possibly be away for another hour, two if she was lucky.

Should she let it rest or just give it another go before taking some time off the phone, just in case? Zowie pondered her options as she left her spot by the window, walking towards her room. Geoff had promised her help, but would he be able to keep true to his promise? She knew she was ready to go the minute Geoff said the words; after all, there wasn't much else she could take from the South Union Avenue apartment other than a few clothes and the sword she had stored in a corner of her closet.

But first she had to reach him, and that was proving to be very difficult. With a deep breath, Zowie speed dialled Geoff's number once again, her heart thumping irregularly in her chest. Those few seconds until she discovered whether this would be her lucky chance or just another failed attempt seemed excruciatingly long for her and, focused solely on the call signal she got through the phone and deafening herself to anything else, Zowie's shoulders slumped in defeat when no one answered her call. With sadness and anxiety mixing inside her to bring the worst of her fears out of her, Zowie finally decided to leave a message. She would have preferred to talk to Geoff, but if that wasn't going to happen, then this would have to suffice for the time being. Taking a deep breath, Zowie tried to come up with a message that was both straight and urgent without being a desperate cry for help.

“Hi, Geoff. It's me, Zowie. Look... I'm sorry I haven't talked to you in a while but... well, things got a bit rough around here for some time. I hate to bring this upon you right now when you're about to leave, but...” She hesitated for a while, knowing that she could probably go on and on forever without making her point across. Biting her lip, she decided it was time for the straight and urgent she had thought of some seconds ago. “I need help, Geoff. It's not easy for me to say it, but I need to get out of here, and soon. Please call me as soon as you get my message, okay? You're the only person I know here and-”

The creaking of a piece of the wooden floor, the one that had always creaked when stepped on right on the entrance of hers and Matt's bedroom, echoed around her, bringing Zowie's heart to a complete standstill. With her breath caught in her throat, Zowie slowly spun on her heels hoping against hope not to find by the door the very image her mind was conjuring. However, nothing could have ever prepared her for the sheer fury and rage that blazed wildly in Matt's blue eyes as he stared at her from his spot, every bit of his stance promising her that, this time, his promise would come true.

“Oh, God...”

~*~

_“Oh, God...”_

Those words, those terror stricken words that filled the line with dread were the last ones Zowie managed to utter. They were the last coherent sound that, at least coming from her, Geoff could make out of that voice mail he had just discovered in his phone, at least an hour after coming back from his jog. And they were filled with the purest, biggest horror.

Something had been clear to Geoff from the very minute he began listening to her voice mail: Zowie was anxious, eager even, but had tried her earnest to conceal it to no avail. When Geoff had first heard the words he had been waiting to hear, the same ones he was beginning to believe he would never hear from her, hope had lit up his heart. Zowie, the independent, stubborn and proud Zowie had finally admitted having a problem that was much too big for her to handle on her own, and she needed help.

But it might as well be too late now.

As the message progressed, however, that hope that had ignited Geoff's heart was cruelly brought to an end and replaced by the purest form of terror that had ever filled his entire being. Sounds of struggle and harsh movements preceded the thud of the phone hitting the floor. An enraged male voice followed, shouting the vilest, most degrading profanities Geoff had ever heard, and hadn't that alone scared Geoff out of his mind, the words that that now familiar voice spoke next chilled his blood.

_“I'll kill you, Zowie! Nobody fucks around behind my back, you hear me!”_

The sharp scream of agony that followed was the last thing Geoff heard; the voice mail ended there. But not hearing and consequently not knowing what had happened afterwards was even worse than having witnessed it all over the phone. Had he been able to listen, he would at least know what had happened to Zowie, but he was in the dark now.

Geoff had been right all long. Matt _was_ a threat to Zowie, he just had never imagined he would be a threat to Zowie's _life_! And yet Geoff had remained inactive for too long, doubting which decision to make, which path to take, and now it could very well be much too late. Zowie had left that message over an hour ago. Had Geoff bothered to check his phone when coming back from his jog instead of taking a shower first, he would have earned some time. A dark cloud of terror fell over him now. If something happened to Zowie because of his passiveness, Geoff would never forgive himself.

Fear freezing his heart and soul, Geoff spent long seconds standing by the window with the phone fixed to his ear until reality sunk in. Zowie was most likely hurt or, God forbid, something worst, and he was wasting time pondering on how's and whys!

Cursing himself, Geoff looked around, an endless list of possibilities whirling in his head. What to do now? Should he try and contact Zowie first or should he call the police? And even if he did call the authorities, what would he tell them? He had no idea where Zowie lived; she had been very careful on not letting that detail slip when informing him of her life as of late. He did want Matt in jail, though; if he had hurt Zowie, then Geoff would spare no effort on getting that guy the punishment he deserved.

With a flicker of hope coming to life inside him, Geoff speed dialled Zowie's number, holding his breath but letting it go in a sibilant hiss when no one answered. Setting his phone down on the table as he got his jacket and the keys to his car, Geoff gasped in shock when the phone vibrated the moment he posed his hand on it once again, ready to leave the house. Jumping slightly on his spot, it only took him a second to realise what it could mean. Picking it up with anxious hands, he half-heartedly expected to see Zowie's name flashing on the screen, but when an unknown number stared back at him, disappointment filled him. He didn't want to waste any time, nor did he want to keep the line busy in case Zowie tried to contact him, so he had no intention of picking it up. A tug in his heart, however, forced him to.

“Yes?” His voice was rough, dripping impatience and bordering rudeness. Whoever it was it better be worth the precious seconds he was losing from going after Zowie. Soon, however, silence bounced off the walls and Geoff's face, a mask of impatience until then, fell into a mix of pain and utter shock. “Where?”


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12.**

 

Geoff might not know every single corner of Los Angeles, but his destination was one he couldn't miss. He had driven past it a hundred times but had always been fortunate enough to never have to visit it.

Until that day.

In his haste, Geoff ignored the freeway's speed limit that the signs here and there ordered him to follow. It didn't matter if he sped so much he never got his license back or he got deported to New Zealand; as long as he made it to the USC Medical Center in time, nothing else mattered.

_“She is in a pretty bad condition, and all we could get from her was her name, yours and your number. She's in Intensive Care right now.”_

That woman he had talked to... Geoff would most likely never know her name or see her face, but he was sure he would never forget her voice for as long as he lived. There wasn't much she could tell him about how serious Zowie's condition was, but the fact that she had assured him that Zowie was alive was more than enough. The woman's words lingered in the back of his mind, though, and although Geoff was filled with images that made his skin crawl, he still tried not to anticipate what _“pretty bad”_ meant for a person who was trained to reassure a distraught relative. He wouldn't be at ease until he saw Zowie with his own eyes, but in the meantime, he tried to find some peace in the fact that Zowie had finally escaped Matt's clutches.

He failed, though, and angry, Geoff punched the steering wheel. He had known all along that Matt was no good. There was something so cocky about him, so self-assured and so dangerous at the same time, that Geoff should have never let Zowie go with him when it was obvious he had something bad in mind. He should have never believed Zowie's words about Matt being _“good”,_ either; after all, Matt could be many, many things, but _good_ definitely wasn't one of them.

However, Geoff's dislike went far beyond the point of him not approving Zowie's choice of boyfriend. It was Matt's attitude what bothered him the most, the fact that he had the arrogance of someone who knew held power in his hands. It was obvious that he held the reins of his and Zowie's relationship in a tight grip, and that Zowie meeting someone behind his back wasn't something he appreciated. Hell, Matt had gone as far as taunting her with promises of unveiling her past, and the thought that he could use something like that against his girlfriend made Geoff sick. What kind of man did that?

But that was over now. Matt, Zowie's secrecy, all of it. From that day on, Zowie would never hide anything else from Geoff again. Far too many mysteries surrounded her life and it was time they sat down and talked about it; Geoff had no issues helping her, but he needed answers. He had already put up with her running away, and what for? For things to end up like this?

Taking his exit, Geoff turned right, the hospital coming to sight as his mind whirled with thoughts and plans. There was no way he was allowing Zowie to go back to her former home as long as he had a saying in the matter and since it had been her the one to call for help, then he would definitely make his opinion heard. His apartment was by no means big, but it would suffice until she got things worked out. It was then, however, that a thought hit him. He would take Zowie home with him, yes, but... what would William and Noemie do if Geoff never told them what their wayward daughter was going through? He hadn't talked to William in a long, long time, but Geoff knew very well that the moment he picked up the phone and called him, both him and Noemie would jump in the first plane available.

But it was that same idea what tore Geoff's heart in two. There was a reason why Zowie had avoided her family for so long and he doubted she would appreciate her parents showing up now of all times. He didn't know whether Matt had forbidden Zowie from talking to her family or if she had made that decision herself, but a little consideration told him that the latter seemed the most suitable option; after all, there was no way Zowie could ignore that her parents would hop on a plane and get her back in New Zealand the moment they found out what was going on.

But she had called Geoff. Despite knowing such thing could happen, Zowie had _still_ asked for help. She was proud and for her to admit that she couldn't live with Matt anymore, Geoff imagined that the line that made things bearable had been crossed long before Matt even caught her making that call. It wouldn't be easy for her to come out of something the calibre of what she had just gone through, but Geoff would do his best to make this as less traumatising as possible.

The wild galloping of his heart choked him the minute he entered the parking lot. Spotting a free space not too far away, Geoff took his car there, his palms sweaty on the steering wheel before he turned the engine off and ran out, his eyes fixed on the “Emergency” sign above the nearest door.

Whatever tension Geoff had felt until then was nothing compared to the anxiety that now twisted his stomach and that brought a cold sweat down his spine. What if her condition was so serious he wasn't allowed to see her? His hands shook nervously by the time he found the information desk and he skidded to a halt right in front of a stern-looking nurse that shot him a disapproving look at his hasty entrance. Not an auspicious start, he mused.

“I'm looking for a patient.” He said breathlessly. “I got a call just minutes ago and-”

“What's the name of the patient?”

Not once did she raise her head from the chart before her, but her curt and firm tone could have stopped a truck coming at full speed, and Geoff felt waves of anger stirring to life inside him. Why was it that, just when he most needed a helping hand, he came across the rudest nurse in the whole hospital?

“Her name is Zowie Hart.” Geoff answered, trying not to snap at the woman. “She was brought here not long ago after...” After what, exactly? Geoff still had no idea what had happened to her.

Still not looking at him, the nurse turned sideways and typed the name in a computer.

“She's in Intensive Care.”

Well, she certainly had the ability to be brief, Geoff thought edgily. Letting some of his brewing anger slip past his control, he asked bitterly.

“And that is...?”

“Third floor.”

Public relationships were certainly _not_ that woman's strongest point, but now that he had his answer, Geoff left her behind without a single look back. Rushing towards the elevator, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other as it made its slow ascent towards the third floor.

He stormed out the minute the doors slid open, but only to be confronted with a corridor with enough ramifications to drive anyone insane. Dread filled him briefly and desperation was like a cold shiver running down his spine until Geoff took a deep breath, trying to get a grip on his emotions. Reminding himself that he would be of no use to anyone unless he calmed down some, Geoff looked around, relief washing over him when he spotted a set of doors at the end of the corridor with a sign that said _“Intensive Care Unit – Do Not Trespass”_. A sudden urge of breaking the rules rose inside him, but one that was quickly discarded the moment he realised that he would be of no use to Zowie if he got kicked out of the hospital.

But there was no one in sight. Geoff was usually a patient person, but waiting by those doors proved to be the ultimate test to his will. He paced up and down, asking every nurse that passed by for any sort of information and getting none whatsoever until he finally came across someone who was the least bit informed of what was going on in that hospital.

“I think I know who she is.” The young nurse responded to Geoff's plea. “Stay right here, I'll see if any of the doctors can come out and talk to you. Are you her father?”

“Yes.” Geoff lied instantly. There was no point on wasting time explaining his true relationship with Zowie, just like there was no reason why he would jeopardise his chance of seeing her. There would be enough time to make amends later on.

Staring forlornly at the nurse's back as she disappeared through the doors, Geoff was once again left alone with his thoughts. Nervous and jittery, he tried to relax some as he resumed his pacing up and down, but it was to no avail. It didn't matter how many times Geoff repeated himself that Zowie was only a few steps away and that she was being taken care of, he still couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that persistently clung to him and that refused to let go.

In the end, Geoff didn't know how long it had passed until the doors finally opened again and a doctor about his age came out, but he would always remember it as the longest wait of his life.

“Are you Ms. Hart's father?”

Once again, Geoff lied when nodding in response.

“How is she? Is she-” Suddenly afraid of the doctor's answer, Geoff's words caught in his throat.

“She's stable.” The doctor finally answered, and his professional tone held just the right amount of sympathy. Geoff felt relief washing over him for a second, but the use of the word _stable_ instead of _fine_ soon concerned him. “She is sedated right now. It will take her some time to recover and it's better for her to rest.”

The doctor's words only served to ignite Geoff's concerns even more.

“How bad is it? How is she? Where did you find her?”

At his words, the doctor – Dr. Cooper according to his little name tag – frowned, his face taking on a serious, concerned expression.

“Given the injuries, I'm afraid your daughter has been beaten up.” Geoff gasped. He had known that all along, but to have it put into words made it real in a way that chilled his blood. “She was found in a backstreet in the Westlake area, and her condition is, indeed, serious. There is no life risk, though. She will recover.” The doctor hurried to add when he noticed the sudden pallor of Geoff's face. “Some of her injuries are serious, but she's young and with the appropriate care and rest, she will get better soon. You can go in now if you want to, if only briefly.”

Geoff nodded eagerly. Even if he was only given a second, he would still agree to it, if only to see Zowie with his own eyes.

“I must warn you.” The doctor said, and his words stilled Geoff more effectively than a live blade aimed at his throat. “She presents an appearance that will be certainly shocking. I'm sure she won't have any permanent scars on her face, but she does have some, if not serious, at least... impressive to the eye injuries there.”

Geoff's stomach sunk at those words before anger soared inside him. The damn bastard! As if having lived with him hadn't left enough marks as it was, Matt had taken extra care on trying to mark Zowie forever. His hands tightened in fists at his sides. Oh, God helped that boy when he got his hands on him!

Silently, trying to control his bubbling anger, Geoff followed Dr. Cooper down the narrow corridor lined with beds. Some of them were empty, but Geoff's eyes intently travelled over each and every one of those that were occupied, his heart thumping every time he discovered that that particular patient wasn't Zowie. Dr. Cooper hadn't painted a very promising picture and while a part of Geoff had prepared him for the worse, another part urged him to remain hopeful.

Those hopes, however, fell the minute he was confronted with the truth.

It was almost silly how, out of the image that met Geoff when looking at the figure lying on the bed, the one thing to offer him some relief was the fact that Zowie was breathing on her own. The rest, nonetheless, offered him little solace.

One thing was for sure: Dr. Cooper hadn't lied. The injuries on Zowie's face might not be all that serious, but that didn't diminish the strong impression that robbed Geoff of all breath.

Her eyes were bruised, the skin a dark, blotchy purple that stretched painfully over the swelling that deformed her face, and small cuts dotted her cheeks and forehead. The right corner of her mouth was swollen too, and her lower lip was split in two places. The same violent purple that marred Zowie's face could also be seen scattered here and there in her neck, arms and chest, and while the hospital robe and covers concealed any other injuries, there was no hiding the cast that covered her left arm from above the elbow to her hand, leaving only the fingers out. At that, the strongest anger he had ever felt blazed in Geoff's heart, fuelled by the self-loathing that haunted him. That _his_ fault. And it should have never happened.

“Is this... all?” Geoff chocked in the words, but when the doctor sighed, his shoulders fell.

“There are other cuts and bruises on her legs, stomach and chest. She also has a bruised rib.” The man made a brief moment of silence, but Geoff refused to ask the question that pushed to leave his lips: _is that it?_ “There are also small injuries in her earlobes that make me think she was robbed. Does she wear any sort of expensive jewellery?”

The doctor's question caught Geoff by surprise, leaving him at loss for words for a second. Soon, however, memories began to trickle back, memories of a birthday celebration some years ago and of Zowie's ecstatic gushing about the presents she had received. Expensive jewellery? Anger suddenly replaced the fear that the image of Zowie laying there brought to his heart.

“Bastard!”

Geoff's muttered expletive surprised the doctor, who gave him a puzzled look.

“Excuse me?”

Geoff shook his head, barely listening to what Dr. Cooper was saying. Furious and at the same time moved to his very core by everything that had happened, he took Zowie's healthy hand in his and gave it a soft squeeze, hoping the gesture made it to her heart. As he did, a flash of green and blue caught his eye against the pure whiteness of the sheet and gently moving Zowie's hand, Geoff's entire body stiffened at the sight of her paua shell bracelet. Of course the bastard hadn't taken _that_! It was worth nothing!

“Her boyfriend beat her up.” He finally said. His voice was nothing but a weary whisper as his eyes studied the form in the bed. “I got a message from her today. She was telling me she needed help, but he attacked her before she could even finish the call.” Looking up, Geoff decided to come clean. “I'm not her father, but I'm the only one she knows here and I won't leave her alone. And those earlobe wounds you told me about? Those were diamond studs her grandmothers had given her for her 18th birthday. If anyone robbed her, that was Matt.”

Dr. Cooper tapped his chin thoughtfully at the revelation.

“Well, this certainly changes things.” He said. “We'll have to wait until she wakes up so she can press charges herself, but you can speak to the police if you want to.” After a brief silence, he added. “I'll leave you alone with her now. I'll come back for you in a few minutes.”

Geoff nodded thankfully, his heart wrenching the moment his eyes returned to Zowie. How could someone be so... cruel? How could a man pretend to love a woman so much and then do this to her? Each second he spent studying Zowie, Geoff's heart twisted more and more. She was beaten up almost beyond the point of recognition, and he wondered whether that had been Matt's idea all along. Why leave her in a deserted backstreet in that state, if not to teach her a horrible lesson... or to hope she would never come back?

“Good God, Zowie.” He murmured, his throat contracting with unshed tears. “How did it come to this?”

Why hadn't she asked for help sooner? Hadn't Zowie ever noticed the kind of person Matt was, what he could do to her? Perhaps she had known all long, but had hid it from him hoping... something. That Geoff never found out, perhaps? That such thing as _this_ never came to happen? If only Zowie had spoken sooner... if only she hadn't kept those things to herself...

Geoff's hand lightly traced her cheek, wincing with every swollen patch he found in his way. How could he tell her parents about this? Perhaps it would be better to wait until he saw her evolution. It felt a little perverse to withhold information from William and Noemie in such situation, but subjecting them to that image... Geoff wasn't sure Zowie wanted that either.

He analysed Matt's work with more detail. He had been so thorough, so deliberately sadistic in his intent of leaving no patch of skin unharmed, that Geoff didn't know whether to scream his agony at the top of his lungs, or simply break down and cry. There was such fury, but at the same time such a big frustration clashing one against the other inside him, that he felt weak and exhausted, a feeling that only intensified when he realised that Zowie's earrings weren't the only thing Matt had stolen from her; there was no golden necklace hanging from her neck anymore, and Geoff felt rage burning wildly inside him. Not content with hurting her, Matt had to prove he was the lowest, vilest person Geoff had ever met and steal from her as well.

Geoff's eyes skimmed down her chest and arms, as if torturing himself with the sight. He should have stopped that from happening, but he hadn't, so why not see with his own eyes what his stupidity had caused? There were so many fresh scars down her arms; they almost hid the smaller, older ones that dotted her skin here and there. The sight puzzled him, and not even discovering how much weight Zowie had lost could erase them from his mind. By the time Dr. Cooper returned, there was only one question Geoff could have asked.

“Do you think these are from today as well?” He asked, and the doctor eyed the scars Geoff was pointing with attentive eyes.

“I don't think so.” He answered after a moment. “These are older.”

At that, all colour drained from Geoff's face. If they were older, if Zowie always, no matter what, wore long sleeves and modest necklines, did that mean that what had happened today wasn't a first? Once again, Geoff was at loss for words.

“She will stay in the Intensive Care Unit for a few days until she recovers enough to be moved to a private room, but it shouldn't take long.” The doctor explained and Geoff nodded, not very focused on what he was hearing. “In the meantime, I'm afraid you can't stay here. You will be informed of the visiting hours, though, and you will be contacted if needed.”

That was his cue, Geoff realised. He didn't want to leave the hospital, but maybe it was time to talk to the authorities and see what he could do until Zowie woke up. He also needed to contact Elijah and Orlando, for now was the time when the help they had offered would become a tangible reality. Giving Zowie's hand one last, reluctant squeeze, Geoff left her side, his heart heavy as he prayed for a quick recovery.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13.**

 

It was a soft, steady beep what first tore through the haze that sheltered Zowie. She fought against it, though; a bliss as no other before surrounded her and she felt as if she floated on the softest of clouds, safe and unharmed. Just thinking of opening her eyes demanded too much of an effort, so Zowie kept them closed, revelling on the peace that filled every inch of her being.

Sounds began to float towards her, their source too far away to bother her lassitude. She could hear soft steps, hushed voices that spoke in whispers, and that persistent beep that had been adventurous enough to rouse her from her blissful sleep. There was such tranquillity inside her that, reluctant to break the spell, Zowie refused to move even when her body begged her to. It urged her in the way a body that has been asleep and still for too long begged for a swift change of position that prolonged its rest, so Zowie conceded.

And it was then that all hell broke loose.

The blanket of lassitude tore to shreds. That peaceful halo that had surrounded her, that had seeped through her every fibre filling her with utter bliss, disappeared with one single movement of her body, letting pain attack her simultaneously from every end.

Zowie wanted to cry out her agony, but nothing but a frail whimper escaped her lips. Every part of her radiated the most intense pain she had ever experienced and while Zowie's mind whirled looking for an explanation, a reason why, the torture was such she couldn't form a single reasonable thought. Suffering clouded everything, and Zowie couldn't fight it. Everything she tried, every move that was hampered by her own unresponsive body only served to increase her general feeling of distress. What was going on? Why couldn't she move, why even something as simple as breathing was welcomed with pangs of ache that doubled her over, restarting the never-ending cycle of torment?

When Zowie finally succeeded on opening her eyes, all she could do was close them again, groaning at the bright lights that blinded her and that pierced her head like splinters of glass as she tried to understand what was going on. A barrier stood between her and full understanding, but one she could feel herself brushing with the tip of her fingers, scrapping at it in search of answers. Desperate, Zowie persisted. A thread unraveled and she held onto its tip for dear life, pulling at it over and over as images tumbled in her mind, bringing back snaps of moments that made her sick with their realism.

Matt, she realised. He had done that to her.

At first, Zowie was much too stunned to do anything but contemplate the whirling of memories that played behind her closed eyelids but soon, no more questions were needed. There, as clear as if she could see them unfolding before her all over again – an idea that brought shivers that, in turn, made her wince in pain -, were the images of what Matt had done to her.

She had been so close to succeeding... so close! She had called Geoff, had brushed a way out of the madness that her life was... and all of it for nothing. All of it to be caught in the act by Matt, giving him the perfect excuse to fulfill his enraged promise.

But he had failed, and the sole idea brought terror to Zowie's heart. With great effort she opened her eyes and although the light buried even more vengeful splinters in her head, so deeply that her stomach rebelled, she still carried on, following that determination that had always been a part of her until she managed to cast a quick glance at her surroundings.

She was in a hospital. White, sterile curtains separated her from what she imagined were other beds, and the beeping sound that now echoed in her head was some sort of monitor that controlled her heart beat. Zowie hadn't been able to see much of herself other than the fingers of one hand, but seeing would only tell her the specifics of what she could already feel in every inch of her body. It also told her that although Matt hadn't killed her, he had certainly tried.

Never, not once since Zowie had met Matt and had been introduced to that violent, sadistic part of him, had she seen him so enraged, so out of himself. The occasional violence that came alive during sex, the threats... that had been nothing compared to the violence and the rage that Matt had unleashed on her when finding her on the phone.

It all came back to her with agonising clarity now, so suddenly that she felt overwhelmed. With her eyes closed, Zowie could remember the torment of every punch, of every kick, the sting of every humiliating insult that Matt had spat at her; as well as collapsing and giving in to Matt's torture only to wake up completely disoriented in a place she couldn't even remember. She had recoiled at the sole mention of the word _police_ , but the promise of a doctor and an end to her pain had been more powerful than any fear. Murmuring her name and Geoff's number, Zowie had fainted once again. How long had passed since that, however, she had no idea.

But realising she was in a hospital brought new concerns to Zowie. This wasn't what Matt had planed for her. He had beaten her up in a way Zowie could have never imagined, and dumping her in a place where it wasn't likely someone would find her carried an implicit message that wasn't lost to her: she wasn't meant to survive. She wasn't supposed to make it out of it alive. If she died there, no one would ever know what had happened and Matt would walk out unharmed and without a single trace of blame.

But Zowie had survived. She was breathing, and every single breath she took helped her realise how much she loved that life she had been carelessly risking for so long. But simply being alive brought complications and problems her still blurred mind couldn't consider, and a little, terrified sob shook her body, filling her entire being with torment. There was so much pain in her, it felt as if a thousand knives were diving into her, twisting vengefully until all of her burnt with misery. A louder cry left her lips this time, and not long had passed until a soft voice tore the torturing haze that engulfed Zowie.

“Ms. Hart?”

Zowie parted her mouth to answer, but her lower lip tugged painfully before letting go with a burning pain, adding to her agony. She tried to speak, but even her tongue felt numb and for the first time since regaining consciousness Zowie wondered how long she had spent in that state, a thought that sent a pang of fear to her heart. Opening her eyes, she found a young woman not much older than herself studying her from the foot of her bed with a cautious look. Again, Zowie tried to speak, and this time, a little more than a croaky sound came out.

“I'm... it hurts...”

Fortunately for Zowie, the nurse was smart enough not to ask _where_ it hurt, for she doubted she could even begin to enumerate the numerous part of her body that felt like they would explode with torment. Or perhaps it was that a single look at her made it unnecessary, Zowie mused, feeling self-conscious of the way she surely looked for the first, and most likely, not last time. Everyone knew what had happened to her, right? Obviously, it only took one quick look at her to understand that her boyfriend had done a lot more than simply beating her up, and Zowie felt humiliated.

Turning her attention back to the nurse, Zowie saw her sliding out of the curtained compartment that enveloped her before closing her eyes. Many thoughts clouded her mind, but she pushed them all aside, focusing solely on the most urgent matter at hand: the pain that burnt incessantly through her. Had the nurse got the message? Had she understood that Zowie could barely enunciate a word without crying out in sheer torment?

Steps rushed outside and Zowie's hopes were rewarded when the nurse, syringe in hand, came in, followed by an older man. Her eyes could barely remain open long enough to see the nurse sticking the needle into the IV Zowie hadn't noticed was attached to her right arm, and to notice that a cast covered the left one almost in its entirety. That must have been the moment she had blanked out, Zowie realised, eyeing the cast with an odd sense of detachment. She had collapsed to the floor, but that hadn't stopped Matt, who had resumed unleashing his violence on her by kicking her. She had felt pain, yes, but one particular kick had left her screaming in agony before darkness fell on her.

“It should kick in soon.” A female voice said and Zowie slipped her eyes open, offering the nurse as much of a grateful look as she could muster, even though she doubted a single look could ever explain how fervently she hoped the words were true. The torture was almost too much and now that a promised end was near, it seemed to attack Zowie with a vengeance, as if wanting to make the most out of those last moments.

Zowie closed her eyes, focusing on counting the rapid beats of her heart and only allowing herself a sigh of relief when its rate, increased by the feelings that had overpowered her, began to slow. The pain was much too slow to fade but when it did, it allowed Zowie the first moments of calmness since she had tried to move, if only just an inch, some endless minutes ago.

Only when she was sure that all pain had vanished, that the sedatives filling her wouldn't vanish in the air, did Zowie dare to open her eyes. She had almost expected to be on her own, but the man was still standing there, a chart in his hands as he studied her with an expert, yet questioning look on his face.

“Ms. Hart, I'm Dr. Cooper.” He said, his tone formal and polite. “Do you remember any of the circumstances that brought you here?”

Even through the haze of the sedatives, Zowie quickly realised the implications of the doctor's question. She couldn't hide the obvious, but the idea of exposing Matt filled her with terror. If she did, the doctor would surely want her to press charges and who could guarantee Zowie's safety if she did such thing?

She couldn't fool herself. As soon as Matt realised he had failed and, above all, that she had set the police after him, he wouldn't hesitate on taking care of his unfinished business. And if for whatever reason he couldn't do it himself, Zowie was very well acquainted with some of his _associates_ to understand that Matt wouldn't even need to get his hands dirty. At such thought, Zowie's heart skipped a beat. There was no way she could do such thing and stay in Los Angeles.

But heart monitors left no room for secrets, and the loud and frantic beep that filled her small compartment made her close her eyes. She didn't want to talk about it. She had lived in a secret for so long, that having her teeth pulled one by one without any anaesthesia seemed lighter than sharing if only the smallest piece of information with anyone. Nonetheless, the reason why all of that had happened in the first place rushed back to her mind. Would she really remain silent now, after all that had happened? That didn't mean she still didn't fear the outcome or what Matt would do, but she could still see that there was no point on hiding it, not when it was so obvious.

“I do remember some of it.” She answered finally, vowing to remain as truthful as she could without naming any names or pointing fingers until she had had the time to think things through. “I was beaten up.” Although the words chocked in her throat, she still carried on. “I fainted at one point, and all I remember after that is waking up in the street with a policeman asking me questions. Next thing I know, I woke up here.”

The doctor nodded.

“Are you in any pain?”

“Not now.” Zowie answered, refraining from shaking her head when she remembered what had happened the last time she had tried to move. Hesitating for a second, unsure of how to phrase the question, she then asked. “I... how am I, doctor? Am I... will I be alright?”

If the doctor thought anything of the shaky, blatantly scared tone Zowie couldn't conceal, he didn't mention it. Instead, he used his best professional tone to answer.

“You will be alright, Ms. Hart. You have several minor injuries as well as others that will demand more tending to, but nothing overly serious that will leave any sort of permanent consequences. You will be discharged in due time.”

Zowie let out the smallest sight of relief at that. Her mind whirled for there were far too many things for her to assimilate in such a short time, but knowing that she had been spared of any serious injuries certainly eased some of her fears. It didn't answer all of her questions, though.

“What are those injuries, exactly?” She asked, and her fear increased when the doctor eyed her attentively.

“You have a few injuries in your face such as your eyes, mouth, and some fading bruises. Your left arm is broken, one of your ribs is bruised and you have bruises and cuts all over.” Pointing at the left side of her head, Dr. Cooper added. “Your earlobes, especially, appear as if someone stole your earrings. Were they valuable? Do you remember anything?”

Zowie instinctively reach for her ears, but then stopped herself at the memory of the pain she had just experienced. Dr. Cooper's words echoed in her mind, nonetheless, implications screaming at her until her ears buzzed. Someone had stolen her earrings, and violently at that. Anyone who had found her before the police did could have done that, but there was only one person sadistic enough to rip them out, hoping to cause even more damage.

Matt.

He had repeatedly, over the time they had been together, either prodded her, tried to intimidate her, or basically threatened her with selling them to get money. And each time, Zowie had stood her ground. Methodically, she had avoided his every attack, giving in and submitting herself in every other way, but never in that. The studs, however, were long gone now, and Zowie didn't need to ask to understand that the necklace had met the same fate.

Shame, pure, total and abject, filled Zowie in that instant. Shame at Matt's actions, at her inability to stop him and everything that it had brought along but, above all, shame at her own incapacity to fend for herself, at the person that she had become. Four years ago, Zowie would have deemed any woman trapped in a situation of domestic violence weak-minded, and now her ignorance and narrow-mindedness rubbed salt in her wounded pride. Was she any different? Was Zowie any smarter? Had she been able to handle Matt, or to leave him when he first began showing his true face? She didn't need to ask herself any more questions, not when the answer to each and every one of them was a rotund and undeniable _no_.

Sobering up at the interested look on the doctor's face, Zowie finally answered.

“They were very valuable, yes.” More sentimentally that financially, at least for her. “I don't remember it happening, though.”

Strictly, Zowie wasn't lying. She couldn't for the life of her remember the moment when that had happened, but she did have a good idea – a _perfect_ idea, in fact – despite having no actual recollections whatsoever. She didn't feel like sharing that with Dr. Cooper, though, and when he looked down at her with a serious look on his face, Zowie realised how right she was on keeping the most gruesome details to herself.

“The police will want to talk to you soon, Ms. Hart.” The doctor said, his free hand slipping into his pocket as the one that held what she imagined was her chart hung limp at his side. “This is a very serious case, so anything you remember will be of use, especially the identity of the person who did this to you. I will try to delay that moment for as long as possible, but it won't be forever.”

Fear pooled in her stomach at the thought. The police? That couldn't happen. That would _never_ happen. Even if she had every right to accuse Matt, it wouldn't take long for the authorities to put two and two together and understand her own part in all that. She might not be the one selling drugs, but Zowie was, by all means, an accomplice. But that wasn't just it. When was the last time she had worried about her legal status in the country? If the police inquired about that, nothing would save her from being deported.

“Thank you.” She mumbled uncomfortably. After all, what did one say in such occasions? While the doctor was convinced he was offering her a helping hand, to Zowie the sole prospect seemed nightmarish.

“I'll leave you to rest now. The sedatives will most likely make you a little drowsy, so I would advice you to sleep a little.” The doctor gave Zowie's healthy hand a light pat. “If you are awake during visiting hours, I'll let Mr. Grant in. I'm sure you will enjoy his company, if only for a little while.”

Zowie's eyes widened, shining at those words.

“Geoff?”

“Yes, he has been visiting you ever since you were brought here. It hasn't been easy for him to respect the short visiting hours of an Intensive Care Unit, but he has been here everyday, waiting for you to wake up.”

Something in the doctor's words puzzled and scared Zowie at the same time.

“Days?” The word almost choked in her throat and the doctor nodded, a sympathetic expression on his face.

“You have been here for two days.”

Dr. Cooper sense of timing was horrible, for true to his word, he left her alone; leaving her to muse over the bomb he had just dropped.

Two days? Had she really been out of it for two days? The heart monitor beeped unevenly when realisation filled her and Zowie's mind spun, trying hard to grab a hold of the concept to no avail. Of course there were many other days in the past four years that Zowie couldn't remember, but the idea that there were two days of her life that she would never recover was a startlingly sobering concept and suddenly, the enormity of what had happened hit her fully.

She could have _died_. Matt had wanted to kill her, and the dull throbbing she felt all over proved that she had had a very narrow escape. As if opening her eyes to a reality she had been ignoring for a long time, Zowie realised what she had made of her life... and that she couldn't go on like that anymore. It wasn't easy for her to admit it, but ignoring it would only further add to the stupidity that had reigned in her life as of late, and although doubts plagued her, one thing was for sure: whatever the future might bring, Zowie would have to face it with a change of heart, of mind and, above all, of attitude. She couldn't go on like that.

Still, fear gnawed at her stomach. Withdrawal wasn't easy in any case, but heroin's? Heroin was far too powerful a drug to be left behind just like that, and she knew that now; the abstinence Matt had forced upon her had left her physically appalled, weak, terrified, and begging for a fix. The sole idea filled her with terror, but one certainty shone like a beacon in her mind: carrying on as she had until that fateful afternoon would, ultimately, bring her back to Matt. Wasn't that what had brought them together in the first place, after all? Wasn't that what had made her stay with him, violence and death threats aside? If she stayed clean, Zowie would be able to find a way out of that mess without Matt finding out what had been of her. If she relapsed, she would do nothing but hand herself to him in a silver platter.

Although her eyes dropped sleepily and her thoughts began to dissolve in a manner similar to the way they did when under the effects of a drug, one thought persisted: Zowie had to change. She didn't know how, didn't know if that was even possible, but she had to try. The survival instinct that had been smothered under the oppressing weight of the lies she had told herself for so long scrambled back to life, refusing to be ignored any longer. She _had_ to make it. She _had_ to stay alive and for that, she needed to clean her act. Yet, despite her resolve, uncertainty clawed at her heart just before she fell asleep, sure that finding a way out would be the hardest thing she had ever done in her life.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14.**

 

For the first time in a long, long time, Zowie felt impatient. The palm of her healthy hand was sweaty and her heart, now free of the monitor that had tracked its every reaction, fluttered in her chest filling her with anticipation. She was well on her way to a speedy recovery, Dr. Cooper had said, and although the IV remained, Zowie couldn't deny its benefits: if something as simple as breathing brought a dull pain to her chest courtesy of her bruised rib, what would eating do to her?

And yet, regardless of whatever discomfort she might feel, all Zowie could think of was that Geoff was coming. The visiting hours in the ICU were very strict and even though she had been awake for several hours now, there was no other way around it but to wait until Geoff was let in, just like every other visitor. Patience, however, had never been Zowie's strongest feature and laying there, staring at the bright lights overhead or the pale, sterile blue curtains around her left her with nothing to do but think... and make decisions.

Clean, but above all shaken up after all that had happened, Zowie could now look at her life with a clarity that overwhelmed her. Sheltered in a fake reality she had built for herself before she even left New Zealand, Zowie now realised how easy it had been to make all the wrong choices that had led to a life in hell, and how making the right decision now proved to be much, much harder. She had done unthinkable things in the name of her addiction and although there was still a part of her that wished nothing but hide behind the fake safety drugs offered, Zowie knew best: she had to change. Whether she could do that on her own it still remained a mystery, so that was where Geoff came into the picture. Zowie knew she couldn't demand a single thing from him, but his help... it would be inestimable if he agreed to lend her a hand.

Glancing around, Zowie felt trapped. She had never been claustrophobic, but God knew that with no natural light and forced to stay in such reduced space, she could easily lose it. She had always been active and that forced passiveness didn't go well with the anxiety that was barely concealed by the sedatives that coursed her, but still, Zowie did her best to endure. Just one more day, she reminded herself thinking of Dr. Cooper's promise. Should there be no setbacks, the man had said, Zowie would be moved to a normal room the following day. He had warned her that it would most likely not be a private room, but that was of no importance to Zowie; even if she had to share a room with ten other people, it would be like paradise when compared to that curtained compartment.

But by now, Zowie had learned to identify almost every sound in the ICU: the hurried steps of the nurses, the heavier tread of the doctors, and, above all, the swinging of the unit's doors as they opened and closed almost constantly. Even amongst the beeping of heart monitors, the occasional muffled cry of discomfort and hushed voices, listening to that door opening and closing had been a reminder that there would be a point when Geoff would walk through them, putting an end to her miserable loneliness. She could hear the soft voices of those visiting other patients, had done so for some minutes now, and they were a reminder that her own visitor – her _only_ visitor – was nowhere to be seen.

As anxiety bubbled inside her, the sway of the curtains caught her eye. She didn't know whether that was caused by the air filtering through an open door or not, but when a corner parted she held her breath, ignoring the throbbing pain the sole gesture caused her.

First, there was a hand; a soft and gentle hand that was soon followed by a curious face popping through the opening, looking insecure and a little reluctant. The smile that graced that same face the moment he realised she was awake, however, was the biggest one Zowie had ever seen in him before.

“Zowie...”

There were so many things Geoff wanted to say, so many things he wanted to do, but relief chocked him up and the words died in a painful knot in his throat. Last time he had seen Zowie she had been nothing but a pale form laying unconscious in a hospital bed, covered with injuries and with a future that loomed dark on the horizon. She still lay in the same hospital bed and her future hadn't miraculously changed, but at least, she was awake. Awake, and with a tiny, tentative smile on her lips.

“I'm so glad you're awake.” Geoff said, his voice thick with emotion as he swiftly moved towards her bed. His arms ached with the desire of taking Zowie in for a hug, but settled for taking her hand instead, ever mindful of the IV attached to its back. “How are you feeling?”

The concern, clear and obvious in Geoff's voice, unleashed a wave of emotion inside Zowie that brought tears to her eyes. Seeing her friend so worried about her well-being was a shock to her very core, one that made her realise how profoundly alone she had been until then. A self-imposed loneliness, yes, but painful nonetheless.

“Well, I suppose.” She said, her voice tight with emotion.

“You sure? Because if you are in any pain I can call the nurses and ask them to give you something-”

Zowie interrupted Geoff and the smile that touched her lips, although amused, was tiny, mindful of the wounds there.

“That's been taken care of already, don't worry.” She said, giving his hand a soft squeeze. “I do have some slight pain here and there, but nothing that I can't handle.” She put what little acting skills she had in that statement, for if she did as much as hint that her bruised rib bothered her, Geoff would most likely try to find a cure for her ailment, and God knew Zowie couldn't stand another minute alone without losing her mind.

When she looked up at Geoff, she noticed the play of whirling emotions in his eyes, the doubtful expression that coloured his face. There was little she could do but stare back at him, but when the question gleamed in Geoff's brown eyes, she diverted her gaze, words blurting out before she could even stop them.

“I'm so sorry, Geoff... so sorry I dragged you into this. I should have never-”

“Zowie, no.”

The words, simple and straightforward, made Zowie look up at him, unsure of their meaning. Dread coiled inside her but the minute she met his eyes, she could see exactly what Geoff had meant. He wasn't rejecting her; he _understood_ her. Geoff wasn't judging her, but that same openness, along with the sudden straightening of his shoulders, told Zowie that the time for chit chat was over. It was the time to talk, to open her heart, to offer Geoff something in return for the lengths he had gone for her and although the sole idea was terrifying, Zowie knew she needed Geoff's help, for she wasn't sure she could change her life all on her own.

As if reading her reluctance in her silence, Geoff spoke.

“I know Matt did this, Zowie. I heard it all in that message you left me.”

Zowie sighed, her heart thumping, her stomach a hollow pit of shame. If sharing her story – the _whole_ story – with Geoff had seemed bad, knowing he had heard Matt attacking her over the phone was beyond shameful; it was humiliating. Zowie couldn't even meet his eyes as she struggled to find one last hint of self-respect somewhere deep inside her, one that hadn't died in the time she had spent living under the influence of the drugs. Her search failed however, and miserably at that, the moment tears stung in her eyes and the weight of all that had happened suddenly made her feel empty inside. Jaded. Ashamed. Not good enough for the help that man offered her.

“I knew that guy was no good.” Geoff continued. “I only saw him once, but the vibe I got off of him was enough. I saw it, Zowie. I saw the violence in him, saw how he barely held himself back from openly threatening you in front of me, and still I did nothing. I should have stepped in. I should have taken you home with me by force if necessary, but I didn't, and now... this is all my fault.”

At that pained admission, Zowie's eyes darted upwards, shock painted in her tear-stricken face.

“Your fault?” She could barely believe her ears. “Geoff, this was _my_ fault. You had no way of knowing-”

“But I saw it coming!” Geoff interrupted her vehemently. “It was there, Zowie... I saw it right away! He was begging me to give him the chance to tell all those things about you that you were hiding from me.” Then, as suddenly as it had come, the anger left him and sagging on the chair by her bed, he looked at her with puzzlement written on every line of his face. “Why, Zowie? Why were you with him?”

The fervent tone in Geoff's question felt like salt sprinkled over Zowie's wounded heart. How to answer to questions she had been avoiding herself?

With the truth, Zowie realised, and nothing but the truth.

“There isn't just one reason.” She said, her voice merely a whisper. “It's so... complex.”

Geoff must have noticed her distress and discomfort in her voice, for he gave her hand a soft squeeze.

“We don't have to talk about it right now if you don't want to, Zowie. I can wait.” And yet, as he spoke those words, Geoff hoped Zowie wouldn't agree to it. He didn't want to disrupt her recovery, but he couldn't go on like that without understanding what had brought Zowie to the situation they were in that instant.

Yet, despite those supportive words, Zowie shook her head, knowing very well that she would never again find the courage to bare her heart and soul to Geoff.

“I do want to talk. It's just that things are never that simple, Geoff. I stayed with Matt because I needed a place to stay. And because I needed something else from him.”

“What could you possibly need that justified this, Zowie?” Geoff asked, his voice showing nothing but a slight hint of indignation he felt, a true feat if the anger the thought brought to him was taken into consideration.

Zowie inhaled deeply. Just like many other times before in her life, she had come to a crossroad. Difference was, opening up in that instant meant, most likely, saving her own life. Looking up at him, her blue eyes met his brown ones unwaveringly.

“Drugs, Geoff. Matt used to give me the drugs I needed.” The load of shame heavy on her shoulders and her heart, Zowie's eyes lingered on her friend, dreading his reaction. She was surprised, though, when she realised Geoff looked far less shocked or disgusted than she would have expected, and urging him with her eyes, she prompted him to explain his reaction – or lack thereof – until realisation hit her. “Wait. You... you knew?”

At her words, Geoff simply nodded.

“I have to admit that the possibility did cross my mind at one point, but it wasn't until Dr. Cooper told me they had found traces of drugs in your blood that it finally made sense.” Giving her an open, non-judgemental look, Geoff then asked. “How long has this been going on, Zowie? Is it something recent, or has it been going on for longer?”

A mix of shock and relief washed over Zowie, tugging at her in different directions. Geoff knew. He knew all about it! Problem was, she wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that. On one hand, it sure made talking about it a lot easier, but on the other, having to admit such thing, regardless of how much Geoff knew, shamed her. She hadn't imagined her addiction could be laid out in the open that way with a simple blood test, but then again, any sort of exam that didn’t show any glaring evidence of her habits would have been a complete and utter fraud. It did surprise her, though, that Dr. Cooper hadn't inquired her about it the minute she woke up, but perhaps the jumble of emotions inside her back then had been so obvious, he had noted that Zowie couldn't put up with anything else.

The question Geoff had pronounced came back to her mind, and Zowie's head throbbed, as if reluctantly clinging to her old habits of keeping such things to herself.

“It's been going on for quite some time now. Ever since my parents got divorced.”

This time, all the surprise Zowie hadn't been able to cause with her earlier revelation hit Geoff square on his face, and he looked down at her with a look of such disbelief Zowie couldn't help but lower her eyes. She did chance another look up at him, though, but when she noticed that his disbelief was slowly taking strong shades of disapproval, she once again avoided his gaze. Zowie was able to deal with many things, but facing the disapproval of a man that was there to help her and that she had known all her life? That was beyond her.

“But, Zowie...” Geoff began to say, his voice full of disbelief. “That was over three years ago!”

The tears that had somehow stopped flowing with her shock at Geoff's revelation once again burnt in Zowie's eyes, blurring her gaze before moistening her cheeks, and in the silence of the room, Geoff's unspoken questions echoed in her ears: how had that happened? And why?

Zowie parted her lips to speak, but no sound came out. She didn't even know what were the right words to say in a moment such as that, not until they stumbled out of her lips, chocked by her sobs and almost imperceptible.

“I want to get better, Geoff... I swear! But I don't know how and I need help and-”

His eyes, glowing fiercely, bore into hers as he crouched down by the bed.

“That's what I'm here for, Zowie, don't you understand? I was trying to find a way to take you away long before this happened, even if I had no idea what was really going on. We'll work something out... I swear. You just relax and get better. That's all you need to do.”

Zowie sighed despairingly, wanting desperately to cling to Geoff's simple solution.

“I wish it could be that easy.” She murmured, blinking the tears away. “What will I do when I leave this place? Let's face it: I have no money, and there aren't many places where I can hide from Matt.”

The fire that blazed in Geoff's eyes at the mention of her boyfriend didn't go unnoticed to Zowie. _Ex_ -boyfriend, actually, she reminded herself a second later; she imagined the breaking up was implied in the whole beating up thing.

“I hope that doesn't mean you're considering going back to Matt.” He hissed. “Because I'm warning you, Zowie... You're not seeing that guy _ever_ again, even if I have to send you back to New Zealand myself to stop you from doing it.”

Any other moment, Zowie would have laughed at how fervent and determined Geoff sounded. That day, however, lying on a hospital bed as she did, there wasn't a single remotely amusing thing in his declaration and it made her heart swell with such gratefulness, Zowie pushed an answer through the knot constricting her throat.

“Don't worry. I don't ever want to see Matt again.” Not that Matt hoped to see her either, Zowie thought to herself.

Her answer earned her a curt, satisfied nod from Geoff, as if he were awfully pleased with her decision. His eyes, however, took on an intrigued glow once again, and Zowie found herself dreading what would come next.

“This isn't the first time something like this has happened.”

It wasn't a question. It didn't even held the faintest hint of doubt or insecurity. It was a statement, and one Zowie couldn't avoid no matter what.

“No.”

There was no need for her to elaborate.

“So he's the one who caused all those wounds in your arms?”

Startled, Zowie looked up from the sterile white sheet, her eyes wide with shock. Geoff's, on the other hand, shone with recognition and hints of a barely controlled anger.

“You could cover them up all you wanted before, but there's not much you can do about a hospital gown, you know?” Geoff stated matter-of-factly. He meant well, but his words made Zowie feel stripped to her very core, exposed for the world to see her every mistake, her every ill-fated decision, and baring her to a humiliation that only seemed to grow. Was there anything she could keep to herself after this, or would she be beaten up in a way that put the physical abuse Matt had subjected to shame?

“Geoff, I...” She began to say, but no matter how hard she tried, she had no idea what to say after what he had dropped on her lap.

“I don't judge you, Zowie... I'm just trying to understand this.” He said, once again reading her mind. “I can't help you if I don't understand exactly what is going on here. I know it's not easy, but this guy... he can't walk away from this just like that. He would rot in jail if I had any saying in the matter, but it's all up to you. You are the only one who can talk to the police, Zowie, the only one who can get that guy behind bars where he belongs.”

At that, Dr. Cooper's words from the day before rushed back to her, filling her with the exact same panic. Her opinion about the matter hadn't changed one bit, and Zowie doubted it ever would.

“No.”

“No?” Geoff exclaimed before he realised he needed to keep his tone down. “What are you talking about?”

Even overwhelmed as she was by the most conflicting emotions, Zowie still held her ground as if her life depended on it. And it most likely did.

“I'm not talking to the police, Geoff. Can't you see it? Matt didn't do this to me so I could go back to him. He wanted me dead, Geoff! _Dead_! Can you understand what that means? He dumped me some place where he thought no one would find me, or where it would take days until someone finally did.”

“All the more reason to get the police after him!”

Zowie shook her head, ignoring the throbbing pain in her chest as the tiniest hint of anger rose to life inside her.

“What do you think will happen if Matt goes to jail? You honestly think he's alone out there, that there aren't others like him? He's made some pretty powerful and terrifying friends over the years, the kind of people you surround yourself with when you're a drug dealer. I know them, Geoff, and I know them and Matt well enough to know that he will ask them to take care of his unfinished business for him, even if he's in jail. And they won't even hesitate, trust me.” Zowie sighed, exhausted after her tirade. “I won't talk to the police and even if I do, I won't press charges. I want to get over this and get better, and none of that will happen if Matt is after me. Let him believe I'm dead or gone. I've already got on Matt's bad side enough as it is.”

“I can see.” Geoff muttered sourly, his eyes skimming over her, going over each and every single one of her wounds. His eyes were coated with rebellion and although he was clearly _not_ pleased with Zowie's decision, she could see it was taking him a lot to control the side of him that wanted to snap at her for what he obviously considered irrational behaviour.

“I know this might not make much sense to you, but-” Zowie began to say, but Geoff interrupted her.

“How could you let this happen, Zowie? What happened to you? You were never like this. You would have never put up with a guy who treated you this way. When did it all change?”

Zowie sighed. Anger still remained in her friend's eyes, but it was mixed with doubt and a will to understand that reached her heart.

“When I moved in with Matt, I suppose. He was great at first, but I suppose they all are.” She replied, shrugging. “But then things changed and I... well... I was too lost by the drugs to even care. I only began to realise how sick this whole thing was when I met you in the streets that day. And when he saw us together, then I understood that I had to get out of there. Which I did.” Zowie tried to sketch a half smile, one that came out as a grimace. “Just not the way I had planned.”

Geoff sighed, a jumble of emotions inside him. He doubted he could ever understand Zowie's reasons until he found out exactly what had prompted it all, but the fact that she wasn't defending Matt was a start. Anger slowly began to leave him, and as exhaustion seeped into his bones, he spoke with a much softer voice.

“Where did you plan to go? To live, I mean.” Zowie parted her lips to answer his question, but blanked before emitting a single sound when she realised she didn't have an answer for that. Noticing her hesitation, Geoff nodded, his face taking on a determined glow. “That settles it, then. As soon as you leave this place, you're coming with me.”

Zowie's heart fluttered in her chest, a mix of joy and sadness tugging in the pit of her stomach. She was overjoyed that Geoff offered her a place to stay, but there was also a shadow that darkened that momentary joy. She was nothing but a burden, she realised, and for a moment, she wondered whether it wouldn't have been better if Matt hadn't killed her as he had planned. She discarded the thought, however, the moment it entered her mind; she had been given a second chance, and she couldn't waste it without deserving anything that came her way.

“I don't mind having you there, Zowie. I wouldn't take you home with me if I did, believe me.”

Geoff must have read the conflict in her face, for his reassurance was spoken in a soft voice that brought stinging tears to her eyes as they shone with gratitude.

“Thanks, Geoff. You have no idea how much that means to me.” Sighing heavily, she added. “I'm sorry I'm such a pain. I should have thought about it before calling you, but... I suppose I was too desperate to even consider it.” Yet, as she said those words, a thought sparkled in Zowie's mind, prompted by her memories of her previous conversations with Geoff. “Wait a minute... aren't you going away soon?”

“Yes.” Geoff nodded and shrugged. “What about it?”

“I don't want to cause any trouble, Geoff. That's a great opportunity for you and I thank you for your offer, but how am I going to afford living there when you're gone? And I won't have you paying for everything.” She promptly stated when Geoff parted his lips to retort.

Shaking his head at her sudden outburst of denial, Geoff gave her a patient look.

“That won't happen, Zowie.”

The look that Zowie gave him, one that told him she was positive he had gone mad all of a sudden, brought a mischievous grin to his lips.

“That won't happen because you're coming with me.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15.**

 

Relaxed, Zowie sat on her new house's favourite spot. From there, she could not only enjoy the warm December sun that filtered through the window and that filled the air around her with shiny dust motes, she also had an unspoiled view of the busy traffic on the avenue two floors below. Her seat, the couch located right by the window, was very comfortable, and with thick, soft cushions, it offered a great place to rest. She knew that because she had been sleeping on it for the past two weeks.

At first, Geoff's promise hadn't made much sense to her, not until she was discharged and he took her home with him. There was a brief moment of hesitation but, where else would she go? There was no point pretending she had plenty of options to begin with, and although moving in with Geoff had felt like the natural step to take, it had also lodged a tiny sting in Zowie's pride at first.

But regardless of that, Geoff had managed to make her feel welcome and not just a burden, as she thought herself to be. In a way, it felt like being part of a very small family and once the initial reluctance had faded, Zowie had begun feeling the effects of the stability and the warmth of a normal and steady household. The trauma she had experienced would take long to leave her, but Zowie now felt like she hadn't felt in years: calm and safe.

She hadn't achieved that state for free, though. Many things had happened along the way, and not all of them had been pleasant. Geoff's support had been as inestimable as she had predicted, but even he could do nothing when the effects of the sedatives she had been given in the hospital vanished and her body reminded her in a cruel, tortuously painful way, that she was still an addict, and that she couldn't get out of it so easily.

It had been horrible. As Zowie absent-mindedly toyed with the paua shell in her bracelet, her mind replayed every single moment of that torture, reminding her of the pain, the sickness, the spasms, and above all, of the sheer humiliation of Geoff witnessing it all. His wide and scared eyes haunted Zowie's memory, along with the overwhelming craving of drugs that had accompanied her during that process, a need that had ashamed her to the very core for not even when Orlando had been so close to her and yet so far away, had Zowie wanted him nearly as badly as she had wanted a single shot of heroin in that instant.

Horrible and nightmarish, that event had still had a very important meaning: realisation, for it became obvious to both Zowie and Geoff that leaving her addiction behind meant more than simply stop injecting substances into her system. Her body, corrupted after years of drug abuse, wouldn't give in so easily, and after researching on the available options, they decided on a process called “rapid detox”. Zowie wasn't in shape to face a long rehab with outbursts of withdrawal symptoms such as the one she had experienced, and that process guaranteed that days of craving drugs would be reduced to a mere few hours, hours she would spend sedated and spared of all suffering.

Also, to support her treatment, Zowie had been given a tiny implant of an opiate blocker called Naltrexone. It had left nothing but a small, almost imperceptible scar near her hipbone, and it offered her a security she clung to with every bit of her being: should Zowie ever cave in and try heroin again, the implant guaranteed that she would feel none of the drug's effects. That didn't mean she didn't think of drugs or that her body didn't tingle with need at times, but having that safety net to cushion her fall offered her the reassurance she had lacked for years.

Her fingers stopped their constant coming and going over the paua shell as a dark cloud cast its shadow over that feeling of peace and safety. Zowie had learned long ago that nothing in her life would be as easy as it used to be, not since choosing the wrong path, but no matter how hard she tried to leave certain aspects of her life behind, they refused to go away, clinging to her soul and causing her a pain that lingered, that lurked in the shadows and that attacked her when she least expected it.

On one hand, there was Matt. Although Zowie had the feeling she would never quite shake off the fear of running into him in the streets, there was another matter that upset her even more. She hadn't minded leaving what little possessions she had behind at Matt's apartment, but the image of a bright mahogany box resting at the corner of her old bedroom's closet brought a heavy burden to her heart.

Zowie closed her eyes, the image of the first time she had held her sword flashing behind her closed eyelids. She might have her reasons to hate her dad, but she would have never surrendered his present for anything in the world. It was a true longsword, a childhood dream come true custom made for her from the very tip to the Hart family coat of arms engraved on the pommel. Just thinking of what fate the blade would meet tore Zowie's heart apart. Matt would find it, that much she knew. Even if it was hidden in a forgotten, dusty corner of their closet, he would come across it at one point or another, and when he did... Zowie shook her head, preventing her thoughts from going any further. She might as well forget all about the sword, for she would never see it again.

And then, on the other hand, there was her family. Although Zowie felt more in control of herself that she had in months, her determination had wavered the moment Geoff hinted it would be a good idea to have her parents over some time soon.

Zowie had refused, of course; had done so from the very first time Geoff had shared his idea with her. He meant well and he wanted nothing but for Noemie and William to see that Zowie was doing well, but the sole prospect filled her with terror. Her parents in Los Angeles to see with their own eyes what their daughter had become? There was no way in hell she was ever going to let that happen. She might have been able to cope with Noemie if she overlooked the fact that there would be a million questions to answer, but William? Never. Not as long as Zowie had a saying in the matter.

 _“Look at me, Geoff... I'm a complete mess! I can't let my parents see me like this!”_ Zowie had argued vehemently, blood pumping in her ears. _“Do you honestly want them to see me this way? At least... I don't know; give me some time to recover. Let me call them and talk to them, but don't ask them to come, Geoff. Please, not now!”_

There was no way she would let her parents see her with a broken arm and the yellowy remains of bruises, but if there was something that truly worried Zowie, was the fact that she wasn't, in any shape or form, ready to stand before them; nor physically, nor psychologically. She had put on some weight in the couple of weeks she had spent living with Geoff in his one-bedroom apartment, but she was still a long way from being the girl her parents had last seen three years ago. Perhaps later she would fulfil the promise she had made to Geoff of visiting her parents or have them coming to Los Angeles, but in the meantime, Zowie would keep things the way they were. How could she face them at all when her feeling of humiliation was so overwhelming? How could she ever stand before Noemie and William and let them see the kind of person she had become, how she had lost all of her dignity?

In the meantime, and looking forward to eradicate such sombre thoughts, Zowie worked hard, as hard as her battered and neglected body allowed her to. Despite her initial shock, she had accepted Geoff's offer to work with him, conscious that in order to be a part of his crew she had to work according to _his_ terms, which included having a healthier lifestyle and building up stamina and strength to put up with six months of shooting in Spain and Morocco. _“Let me get this straight from the beginning,”_ Geoff had said sternly. _“If you screw this up, it's my job on the line, get it?”_ . The words echoed in her mind, filling her with responsibility.

Soon, and despite her bruised rib, jogging replaced the gram of heroin a day that she had been consuming as of late, and as her body escaped the nets of the drugs, Zowie slowly began to bring firmness to muscles that hadn't been put to use in years. It hurt, but Geoff was giving her the chance of a lifetime and Zowie wasn't going to waste it. She wouldn't be able to hold a sword properly until her plaster was removed, but she worked hard nonetheless.

Sighing, Zowie's eyes focused on a passer-by below her window, the softness of the paua shell bringing a soothing feeling to her heart. Out of all the things she had brought to the United States with her, none remained except that bracelet. It hadn't been expensive enough to catch Matt's attention the way diamonds and gold had, but it had been strong enough to withstand the brutal attack and come out of it with only a few scratches that did nothing to diminish its natural beauty. Even if Zowie's eyes weren't focused on the beautiful swirl of greens, purples and blues, just feeling the soft shell in her hand was enough to instantly transport her back to New Zealand.

She hadn't realised how much she had missed her country until she accepted the fact that, until then, she had never allowed herself a single moment to think about the land that was in her blood. Closing her eyes, Zowie imagined herself sitting in her home's kitchen, the scent of the many flowers Noemie had in the backyard drifting through the French windows. Her mum was a great gardener, she thought, skilled enough to nurse the most diverse plants and flowers to life. Spring was always a very colourful time of the year at the Hart's household with a proud display of Pōhutukawa, roses and Zowie's favourite, bougainvillea. She had tried to make a red one grow once, but it was Noemie's patience what had ultimately nursed the plant until it blossomed. That was her mum, she realised. She had the patience Zowie had always lacked, the wisdom she didn't have, and she sighed. She didn't want to visit that area, not now.

More questions filled her mind, other pictures playing before her eyes. What about her siblings? Zowie barely remembered anything Jared had told her in the emails he had sent her, even though she used to read them voraciously in the beginning; his experience in Auckland as well as Jewell's adventures in St. Mary's had accompanied her in her first months in Los Angeles. However, as she began to lose direction, Zowie stopped reading their emails altogether, and a wave of regret spiralled inside her at the thought. Not once had she stopped to consider how it must have felt for them not to have a clue of what was going on in her life, whether she was dead or alive. She had intentionally deprived them of any sort of news because of the way she felt about herself, because of the shame that filled her insides every time she tried to come up with a new lie to cover up the reality of her life in California, and guilt burned inside her. At twenty and seventeen, Jared and Jewell now had a life Zowie knew nothing of, and although she had no idea how to come up with excuses as to why she had disappeared, she hoped that simply getting in touch with them would be enough to erase all those dark moments until she could finally find a way to tell them the truth.

Opening her eyes, Zowie let them descend on their own accord to the shell she still held in her fingers. Once thought of as a sign that bound her and Orlando together forever, a sad smile now touched her lips at the thought. Did he still have his own shell, the one that, matching hers perfectly, had led Zowie to believe that his choice of present hadn't been entirely unmotivated? And what about that coin she had given him?

God, it seemed so long ago! All that had happened between them, even shooting _“Lord of the Rings”_ itself seemed nothing but a haze in her past. She wondered whether that was the natural course of a person's memory or if it was just the drugs' making, but Zowie dreaded to think it was the latter. Even if she had postponed a true rehab with psychological counselling until she came back from Morocco, being clean and free of the clouds that drugs used to constantly cast over her had filled her with a new awareness, one that didn't allow Zowie to ignore most of the things she had done in the past. The idea that doing drugs had erased most of the amazing moments she had spent while working in the movies was a heavy weight on her already troubled heart.

They hadn't, however, fogged a single one of the moments she had shared with Orlando.

Zowie remembered them all: the good, the bad, the funny, and the sad moments they had lived together. But above all, she remembered what she had once felt for him – what still burnt in embers somewhere inside her. She had never forgotten how good, caring and understanding Orlando had been to her, and although she had given up trying to contact him in her darkest hours, Zowie had never stopped feeling something for him. Even when at her worst, Zowie had wondered how he was doing or where he was, whether he was still in the US or back in England. She knew that the première to _“The Return of the King”_ had taken place not long ago, and although a part of her had longed to be there when she found out, another one wisely reminded her that, at the time, Zowie hadn't been fit for an event that important. Not that anyone would have invited her to it, either. Just thinking about it reminded her of the promise she and Brooke had made to each other years ago on the way home from school, the promise of attending the première together, Zowie arm in arm with Orlando. Another promise broken, Zowie mused sadly. Another friendship shattered because of her wrong decisions.

It would have been so good to see Orlando, though. His career had seriously taken off since his days in New Zealand and Zowie would have loved to hear everything about it straight from him. She wasn't really up to date with everything, but no matter how lost she was in her addiction, there was no way she could miss his pictures on the cover of some of the country's most important magazines. He was Hollywood's hottest bachelor and as such, everyone wanted a piece of him. It seemed it had always been that way, though, Zowie mused. Even when he was just a young actor fresh out of school, Zowie had always had to struggle to spend some time with him. He had been there, though. Now, however, he seemed as far away from her as he would ever be.

But there was one thing, nonetheless, that Zowie missed above everything else. She would put up with anything, would fight with the entire world if necessary, for only a few minutes alone with Orlando, to be in his arms one more time. She missed that so much! Zowie craved to feel his arms around her, craved to feel the warmth of his body next to hers as he whispered in her ear with loving words that everything would be alright just like he had done so long ago.

Because no matter how certain she might appear about what she was doing, deep down inside Zowie was still full of insecurities. She was afraid of everything: of stumbling with Matt whenever she went out, of her parents showing up, of the implant not working and her falling into the trap of the drugs again and disappointing everyone. But, above all, she was afraid of herself, of not being able to pull that off altogether. She knew taking off to Spain and Morocco wouldn't magically erase all her problems, but if she could at least see Orlando once again, Zowie knew she could rely on him like she had in New Zealand. Not that it would be easy to fill him in the details of her life as of late, but having him by her side would make her feel safe once again. It didn't matter how much of a mess her life was, Orlando would make it right with his mere presence.

One day, she promised herself, eyeing the paua shell that she would forever think bound them together. One day she and Orlando would meet again and, with his help, she would set the path of her life straight for once and for all. Even if it took her ages to do so.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16.**

 

It wasn't a good day and judging by the looks of it, Zowie didn't think it would improve much either.

Although the ride in Geoff's car was quiet, it wasn't the peaceful silence between friends, the kind that didn't need light, meaningless comments to avoid the awkwardness. It was every bit the tense kind of silence that Zowie had no idea how to fill, one that was further fuelled by the possibility of Geoff snapping at her if she did as much as try.

It was understandable to a certain extent, though. While Geoff had more or less tried to understand Zowie's decision about Matt, he still let a comment or two slip every once in a while, almost as if they escaped on their own volition. Yet, the moment he hung up the phone that morning with a pleased and accomplished glimmer in his eye, Zowie should have known that the time for subtle allusions and hints was over.

And she had been right. The moment Geoff came into to kitchen to announce to her that the police was closing in on Matt, all those memories that she had worked so hard to forget resurfaced with a vengeance, knocking all air from her lungs and biting Zowie's heart with terror. The police had enough proof to imprison Matt over drug dealing, but they wanted Zowie to press charges too, something Geoff encouraged greatly. Zowie, however, wouldn't do even with a gun aiming at her temple, for she was sure _that_ was the exact fate she would meet should she ever give in to Geoff's demands.

Needless to say, her friend hadn't understood. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't comprehend Zowie's reasons for not wanting to send Matt to jail as much as he did himself. Thing was, Zowie did want him behind bars, but how could she ever explain to Geoff her certainty that a different destiny awaited Matt? Although Zowie didn't know much about Matt's business, for she had intentionally avoided that in their time together, she still knew enough to understand what would happen sooner or later. No one, regardless of how powerful Matt thought himself to be, could deal with the kind of people he dealt with on a daily basis and walk away unharmed. How long would it take for him to mess with the wrong person? He had already had several narrow escapes in the past. It was only a matter of time until his arrogance led him by the hand towards his doom, but if Zowie unleashed the police on him, all she would achieve would be to become the sole target of his rage.

Still, none of that made sense to Geoff. Why was she so afraid? Couldn't Zowie understand that she would be a lot safer once the police locked Matt up? Geoff's reasoning was wise and irrefutable, but Zowie still said no. It was a matter of days until they left the country and that was exactly what Zowie was counting on, for it represented the door she needed to cross in order to be free of Matt forever. An addict himself, and regardless how sick and twisted their bond was, it wouldn't be long until Matt forgot all about her. Soon another troubled girl would take her place and by the time she came back from Morocco in six months, Zowie would be the last thing on Matt's mind. She counted on that to have a normal life.

Having exposed her reasoning to Geoff, Zowie wasn't surprised when he still refused to agree. He never would and deep down inside, she hadn't really expected him to. How could he? Geoff didn't know Matt like Zowie did. He hadn't lived with him for over a year, didn't see his dark side nor almost lost his life at his hand. Zowie never doubted that her friend's intentions were the best and that he meant her absolutely no harm, but she had the feeling they would never find a middle ground as far as Matt was concerned. Both wanted him out of her life, but Zowie's shades of grey about it were extremely difficult for Geoff to understand. That was why the silence in the car was so overwhelming and why the tension could have been cut with the bluntest of knives: because Zowie owed him her life and even though he hated her determination, she wouldn't pay him back by endangering his life even more than she already had.

Still, mad at her or not, Geoff was taking her to the first training session with the actors, but the tension in him was so obvious that, for a moment, the ghosts of insecurity plagued her. Was Geoff regretting his offer? Did he fear she would make him look bad? The thought was like a heavy weight on her heart, but an instant later, Zowie hid her insecurity behind a cloak of self-assurance. Yes, she might have a cast in her arm. Yes, she might be out of training. But even if she had to fight with her least agile hand, she would still show everyone how good Zowie Hart could be. No one, no matter how good, would make her look bad just because she was injured. Broken arm or not, she wouldn't fail. She _couldn't_ fail.

The idea not only lifted Zowie's spirits instantly, it also got her in contact with a side of her that had been dormant for too long. She had always strived to be the best at everything she did: had juggled her last year in school and everything it entailed just to prove everyone that she _could_ do it. She had aced each and every one of her final exams just to show her mum that she could handle school _and_ working in the movies. She had worked harder than anyone to show people that she hadn't earned her place in _“Lord of the Rings”_ just because the surname Hart was attached to her first name, and had even come to Los Angeles bent on being the best coach ever even if she was only 18.

Somewhere along the way, however, Zowie had lost the drive that had always propelled her forward, and the sole thought of whom she had become was enough to bring a surge of determination to life inside her. She would show everyone how good she was, and just like she had done in _Rings_ , they wouldn't have a single chance to complain about her job.

By the time Geoff stopped the car and turned toward her with an anxious and expectant expression on his face, Zowie had made up her mind.

“You shouldn't worry.” Zowie spat out a little more abruptly than intended. “I might not be in my best shape, but you won't be embarrassed. I can promise you that.”

Her words, her tone, the tension in her body as she sat stiffly on the passenger's seat caught Geoff by surprise, and he stared at her with a look in his eye that told her exactly how lost and confused he was.

“Zowie, what the hell are you talking about?” He asked, his brow creased as his mind went over her words time and again trying to make some sense out of them.

“I know what's worrying you. I mean, besides you being mad at me because of Matt, of course.” She added. A side of her begged her not to mention him, but the other clamoured for things to be laid out in the open. “I know you're concerned about how I'm going to do this, how... well, how bad I'll make you look if I fail, but you don't have to worry about me. I don't care if I break my other arm to prove you and everyone else how good I am at this. Worry about the others if you want to, but not about me. You know I'm better than many of them.”

Where had all that come from, Zowie had no idea, but the rush she felt at letting all that out, at reclaiming her place as an expert sword fighter was putting the rush of whatever drugs she had tried in the past to shame. Suddenly, she felt more alive than she had in years, as if having a clear goal in her mind was all she needed to set her life back on track. Will to live sang in her veins, touching every corner of her body and making her want to jump out of the car and show Geoff and everyone else exactly what she could do, so giving her friend an impatient glance, she unbuckled her seat belt.

“Well? Are we going in or not?”

Geoff could do little else but stare stupidly as Zowie nimbly jumped out of the car, her blue eyes scanning attentively the training facilities with a look that held nothing of the insecurities that had plagued her until earlier that day. Where had all that come from? Stunned, Geoff tried to make sense of Zowie's tirade, to comprehend what he had just heard. Did she think he was worried she wouldn't be able to keep up with the rest of his team, that he thought she would embarrass him? No matter how hard he tried, Geoff couldn't work his head around the idea, for another thought pushed its way forward, urgent and demanding.

Whatever it was that had angered Zowie so much, it had certainly succeeded on one thing: it had set a fire inside her that was enough to bring her back to life. Geoff hadn't fooled himself in the time they had been together. Zowie tried, yes, that much had to be said; she trained, ate regularly, made a conscious decision to leave drugs in the past to embark on a healthier future, but she seemed to do all that in autopilot. She was a completely different girl from the one Geoff had known in New Zealand, and it had nothing to do with her growing up and maturing. She was but a shadow of that confident girl that had been ready to face challenges that would intimidate people twice her age, but since finding her in Los Angeles, Zowie had been silent, reluctant to share most of what was going on in her life and, above all, insecure and fearful.

That had been the hardest part of it all: to stomach the idea that Zowie might have been broken, and so badly at that that she would never be the same again. The thought had sickened Geoff, but now, as he stared as Zowie eyed the area around her with an inquisitive look, his heart skipped a beat. He didn't want to get ahead of himself, didn't want to claim a victory, but there was a spark there, a spark of life that he had thought long gone in Zowie, and that he hoped the next surprise she would get would only serve to increase.

After all, who else could bring Zowie back to life, but Orlando?

Geoff prayed his gamble turned out right. Orlando had surely meant the world to Zowie in the past but, would it be the same now? He had wanted to visit her a lot sooner, perhaps even stop at the hospital when she was there, but after seeing her, Geoff had realised she needed time; time to come to terms with everything that had happened and, above all, to regain some confidence before facing such an important figure from her past. Now, however, as he exited the car, Geoff hoped his plan wouldn't backfire and explode in his face. Zowie might be showing some of her old fire now but, what if he was pushing her a bit too far?

The car's door slammed closed, and Zowie dared a quick glance at Geoff, careful to keep her features trained when the look on his face made her shoulders stiffen. Why? Why after being so adamant on having her there with him, did he act like that? The thought sent all her insecurities flying once again.

Sketching a tiny smile that didn't reach his eyes, Geoff tilted his head before speaking.

“This way.” He finally said and Zowie followed him suit, her steps sure and firm as they walked side by side even though she had absolutely no idea where they headed to.

A quick look around told Zowie that the facilities weren't too different from those belonging to WETA in Wellington, and walking through those corridors managed to transport her back in time to the days when she had assisted her dad in the actors' first training sessions. But, above all, it brought memories of a cloudy, windy afternoon over four years ago when she had followed this same man down a similar corridor, the same twinge of nervousness in her stomach.

But there was another feeling as well, one that had also been there four years ago: determination. In Wellington, Zowie had wanted nothing but to wow all those actors. Today, in Los Angeles, all she wanted to do was prove Geoff that she could handle the job he had chosen for her.

But if there was any tension inside her – and there was, indeed, a lot – Zowie didn't show it. She kept it under a tight control as she greeted those who would be her co-workers for the next six months, and then as she was introduced to the actors. She knew Liam Neeson from _“Star Wars”,_ but as for the rest, they made such an interesting variation to Zowie's curious eyes that the sole sight of them managed to cast a shadow over her nervousness. For an instance, a tall, blond, and bulky guy she imagined came from a Nordic country patted her shoulder with enough might to dislocate it, but the rest – some British actors and others whose features were decidedly Arabic – were more gentle with their greetings. It was quite an eclectic gathering of people, Zowie realised, and she looked forward to seeing how it all turned out with so many different people on board.

As soon as the introductions were over and Geoff's team split into smaller groups, Zowie was, for the first time since that one job she had got in Los Angeles, face to face with a sword. It pained her to think that her own longsword was lost forever, but she pushed those thoughts aside, for if she began to think of the past and all the mistakes she had made, she would never be able to keep true to her promise of showing Geoff what she could do. Still, the sight of the blade resting on the table brought mixed feelings to her heart. There was a familiarity there, a knowledge that allowed her to know what the sword was made of and guess how much it weighed before she even took it in her hand, and it felt like a breath of fresh air to let that side of her resurface. There was, however, a strong fear gnawing at her heart as well. Would she be able to do it? Could she pull that off? Zowie's hand trembled as she slowly reached for the sword, insecurity colouring her every movement. The old pull was there, but the new fear represented a barrier that was almost too strong to overcome.

“Zowie?” Geoff's call made her jump in her spot and suddenly, the noise and bustle in the training room reached her once again. Taken by surprise, Zowie's hand moved away from the sword, the tips of her fingers barely brushing the leather on its grip and awakening a feeling of longing inside her.

“Yes?” Turning slightly to face him, Zowie did her best to hide the mess of emotions inside her.

Geoff shifted in his spot, and while his brown eyes were still anxious, they were nowhere near as much as they had been in the car. Perhaps he was relieved she hadn't made a complete fool of herself yet? Not noticing the anticipation colouring them, Zowie rested her hip on the table and readied herself for whatever it was that he had come to say.

“Look, about what you said in the car... I was never afraid of what you would do. Ever.” He said, looking at her straight in the eye. “Zowie, if there's one reason why I asked you to join me is because I know what you can do, and how good you are at it. It doesn't matter if you haven't done it in years, I know it's inside you. You can say many things about your dad, but you can never deny that he taught you well.”

At that, Zowie bit back a sharp remark, for William was a topic she wasn't ready to face.

“I know, Geoff.” She said after taking a deep breath. “I guess I've been tense about... well, you know.”

Geoff shook his head, his eyes studying her as Zowie finally gave in to the need of holding the sword she had been admiring. With his breath caught in his throat, Geoff stared at her as Zowie's fingers circled the grip and then, with a sure, expert movement, lifted the sword, holding it up at her side. There was a glow in her eyes, an air of confidence about her as she stood with her feet slightly apart testing the sword's weight and feel that brought Geoff back in time, and it was only the sight of the cast in her arm what reminded him that Zowie's life wasn't the same, and would probably never be. When his eyes left her, however, and drifted to the tall man standing behind her, Geoff couldn't help but pray again for his gamble not to go wrong.

He cleared his throat a little too loudly then, and Zowie looked up at him curiously.

“I'm glad we're clear about that.” He said, but his body language must have given him away, for Zowie's face creased in a slight frown as if she could read every bit of the nervousness he felt. “There's someone I want you to meet. One of the actors you and I will be working with.”

At that, Zowie's eyebrows raised in surprise. There was one left? She had met so many actors she was sure that was it, but apparently, she had been wrong. One more actor didn't quite make a difference when it came to training, she mused; not unless he was extremely uncoordinated and couldn't make heads or tails of what they were supposed to do. Shrugging inwardly, she slowly spun on her heels, following the silent order in Geoff's brown eyes. The moment Zowie made eye contact with the person standing a few steps away from her, however, her entire world came to a standstill.

Everything else disappeared. The hustle of people, their voices, the shuffle of their feet on the floor, nothing touched her anymore. Her heart, just as shocked as she was, skipped more beats than she could possibly count and her mind, suddenly lost and hazed, stopped working, for right before her stood the man that had filled her every dream and her every waking moment for years, the one she had moved to Los Angeles just hoping to see one more time.

The same man Zowie was beginning to think she would never see again.

Orlando.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17.**

 

_“Old feeling,_

_new beginning”_

**_Geri Halliwell – Look At Me_ **

Not many things could have penetrated the wall of absolute astonishment that surrounded Zowie in that instant. For instance, there was a low hum tickling her ears, but it wasn't interesting enough to demand her instant attention and although the loud clattering of metal hitting the floor was shrill to her ears, it couldn't have forced Zowie to tear her eyes from the tall man standing before her.

Silent and stunned, there was little else she could do but let her greedy eyes take in the sight of Orlando. He was there... he was really there with her! And not a single one of her daydreams or the pictures she had come across in news-stands could have ever, ever do him any justice. He was just as tall and handsome as he had been four years ago and his brown eyes still sparkled the same way as they posed themselves on her, but at the same time, it was impossible to ignore that Orlando had changed.

He had become a man.

Bigger and broader on the shoulders than he had ever been in New Zealand, his face had too grown more masculine, more defined and, if such a thing was possible, more handsome. His hair, once really short and cropped in a Mohawk, now brushed his shoulders with untamed curls that seemed to beg for her fingers. His smile, nonetheless, the one he directed at her in that instant... that hadn't changed one bit, and it awakened the most diverse emotions in Zowie's heart.

She was so overjoyed that Orlando was there with her, that she could have jumped up and down and squeal in delight before lunging herself into his arms, arms that looked like they could protect her from any harm. And yet, at the same time, a pain and a shame just as overwhelming surged to life in her heart. Pain at the memories of them. The times they had spent together that would never come back. The sole thought of his support when her parents divorced and at the failure of that night they had shared in Wellington so long ago. And shame... shame at the person she had become. The suddenly heavy cast that covered her arm. The shame at having to tell him everything that had happened and at the disgust he would surely feel when she told him everything. But, above all, shame at the hot tears that suddenly prickled her eyes as the world around her once again became obvious to her.

However, and amidst the tangle of emotions spreading their wild tendrils inside her, one thought pushed itself forward with such clarity that it was almost painful: it was her sword the one clattering on the floor, the one that had fallen from her limp hand at the shock she had received. So much for thinking she would never make that same mistake again, Zowie thought almost detachedly. Just minutes ago she had deemed impossible anyone could cause such reaction in her, that she would keep a cool head on her shoulders no matter what. How any more wrong could she possibly be? There was only one man in the whole world who could cause such havoc inside her just by standing before her with half hopeful, half doubtful look in his eyes, and that was Orlando. No one else could make feelings she had thought long since dead surge back to life in a way that overwhelmed her and that sent hot tears to her wide, surprised eyes.

God, Zowie wanted so badly to hug Orlando, to touch him to prove herself that she hadn't succumbed and gone mad at last, but how could she? It had been so long! Years had passed since he had been both her confident and sole adoration in New Zealand. Perhaps Orlando had changed. Perhaps he would think Zowie simply hadn't grown up, that she was still stuck in their _Rings'_ days and that she expected things to be the same between them when they possibly couldn't. The moment Orlando opened his arms, however, whatever doubts Zowie might have been nurturing vanished in the air, leaving her as bare and open as she had been when Geoff visited her in the hospital. With a barely repressed sob, Zowie lunged herself into Orlando's arms, not once feeling the discomfort of her injured arm as it got trapped between their tightly pressed bodies.

“Zowie... Zow...”

There was no way Orlando could explain the feelings that burnt in his heart the minute he took Zowie in his embrace. There was joy and relief there but, at the same time, all of it was mixed with a deep pain that had lodged itself in his heart the minute he walked into the room. He had never meant to be late for the meeting, but the minute he set foot in the room, Orlando's eyes had zoomed in on Zowie's back, studying her for the briefest of instants as she admired the sword on the table, the strongest sense of deja-vu invading him the minute she picked the blade up. It seemed a lifetime had passed since he had seen her walk into that training room in Wellington and spar with Geoff, taking Orlando's breath away with her energy and aplomb.

Why had all those things happened to Zowie? The weight of all that she had gone through made Orlando weak at the knees as his arms tightened around her. She was alright just like Geoff had promised but, had the inner pain gone away? Orlando knew Zowie and her tendency to keep such things to herself, and what had happened in New Zealand, what had also taken place in Los Angeles, all of it had surely left a mark in her that would have to be dealt with accordingly.

Orlando's heart twisted at the feeling of her in his embrace. This wasn't the strong, agile Zowie he had once known, the one who could return his hug just as mightily. This was a Zowie made of unyielding angles and slightly protruding bones, nothing like the old, healthy young woman he had known in the past, and his soul darkened at the thought of all that Zowie must have experienced. He wanted to blame others for it, but no matter how much he cared for her, Orlando knew Zowie well enough to understand why she wouldn't ask for help.

What he couldn't understand, however, was her addiction, and the broken arm he was mindful not to press too hard against was a living proof of that. Looking back in time, Orlando berated himself for not having read the signs Zowie had laid out for everyone to see. There were distant memories in his mind, memories that showed a depressed Zowie in a club and her sudden change of moods without any logical explanation, memories of the pain she had gone through, of the overall change in her. He should have pushed harder, he thought to himself, for the signs had always been there. Zowie had pleaded to him for help, for him not to leave her. Now he knew why. And now there were so many things he wanted to say, that he had no idea where to start.

It was Zowie who, luckily for him, saved him from trying to speak through the tears that knotted his throat.

“What... what are you doing here?” She asked, her face a picture of astonishment.

“I work here, Zow.” Orlando answered, his weak smile growing stronger by the second as one of his hands stroked her back, carefully ignoring the feeling of her ribcage. “You will be training me... again.”

Facts whirled in Zowie's mind in such way, she couldn't possibly make sense of even the plainest and most obvious of truths as it was laid out before her. Orlando was there and she was in his arms, just like she had dreamt of for years, but his words echoed in her ears in an almost deafening way, taunting her as she found herself unable to pull the string that would unravel the whole thing until it made sense.

“Orlando will be working with us, Zowie. Or we will be working with him, actually. Just like the old times.”

Zowie's glance at Geoff was brief, but his pleased expression was enough for her to understand everything. He hadn't feared she would make him look bad – he had been nervous thinking about her meeting Orlando! But more importantly, another truth sank into her brain. She would be working with Orlando for six months. _Six_ months. Orlando, the man she had loved for longer that she could remember, the one she had flown halfway around the world to see and failed, the only one who could make everything alright... was there. And realisation was so overwhelming, Zowie couldn't help the little, shocked cry that escaped her lips.

“Oh my God... you'll be working with us!”

***

“Well, Geoff... I'd say you're a terrific cook, but I'm afraid we have to thank...” Checking the name printed on the empty pizza boxes on the table, he added, “ _Gino's_ for our great dinner tonight.”

“I'll make sure to pass on the compliments next time we stop by.” Geoff answered with a grin. “Which will most likely be as soon as tomorrow, because neither Zowie nor I are exactly _terrific_ cooks.”

Zowie shook her head at Geoff's comment, rolling her eyes and earning herself a snicker from her friend. Any other night, she would have probably let the old Zowie resurface and fire back, but that night, with Orlando sitting by her side in Geoff's living room, Zowie held back. All sorts of emotions brewed inside her, making her feel shy and insecure around Orlando, something that had never happened before. How many nights like this had they shared in New Zealand? Too many to count. So what made this one so different?

Her past, that was what made her feel that way. Her past brought her down, and although she was overjoyed to have Orlando back, every mistake she had made, every wrong turn she had taken haunted her,  filling her head with questions that made her shift uncomfortably in her seat. It had been like that all day long, getting so bad at points, it had almost managed to drown the happiness of having Orlando by her side, making her feel as if the man next to her was a complete stranger.

And in some ways, he was. Orlando had changed so much over the past four years, Zowie could barely believe it. The essence of him was still there, of course; his easy smile still graced his lips and the way he acted around them hadn't changed at all, but at the same time, the changes he had undergone were impossible to overlook. And they intimidated her some.

Back in the day, Zowie had thought of Orlando as a man. Now, however, she could see how wrong she had been. She would never deny that the one reason why she had fallen so madly in love with him was, simply, _him_ , but the fact that he was older than most of the guys she used to hang out with back then had also added to his charm. But it was only now, four years later, that Orlando looked and acted the part of a man. His physique, his behaviour, it all belonged to someone who had grown confident in his own skin and that was a painful reminder of all the things Zowie had failed to achieve, whether personally or professionally. Sitting next to Orlando, feeling the aura of confidence that radiated from him, made her feel all the more insecure and regretful for all that she had done, and questions echoed in her mind. Would he be disgusted when he found out all the things she had done? Would he still want to be her friend, or would he be so disappointed that he would never want to see her again?

“Zowie?”

Looking up with a start, Zowie realised she had been staring so intently into her empty glass that she had missed most of the conversation. Blushing slightly, she looked up at Geoff.

“Yes?”

“Orlando was saying that maybe you two could go out for a walk while I do the dishes?”

Her eyes instantly flew towards Orlando and her heart lurched in her chest.

“Out?” Zowie gave Geoff a startled look, as if he asked the impossible from her.

“Yeah. Show Orlando around and catch up while I take care of things here. I'm sure there's plenty you guys need to talk about after so long.”

She didn't know whether Geoff had meant those words the way she thought he had, but the sole idea of _catching up_ with Orlando made Zowie feel sick to her stomach. Why would she do something like that, when doing it might mean losing him again? She wasn't going to do it, for risking that, risking losing Orlando when she had just found him would kill her like her addiction and Matt had failed to.

“Yes, Zow.” Orlando posed his hand on hers, and Zowie wondered whether he could feel the trembling that shook her entirely. “Let's go. It's nice outside and Geoff's right... there are a lot of things I want to tell you about.”

Orlando's seemingly innocent, harmless words failed to reassure her, and although she wanted nothing but to refuse his invitation, she knew that wasn't an option. If she did as much as hint she wanted to stay inside, suspicions would arise, and not only Geoff would be surprised by her sudden and unexpected devotion to house chores, he would also understand right away what was going on.

And then there was Orlando, who stared at her with the same look that had made her fall madly in love with him so long ago; one that had, nonetheless, matured along with him. It wasn't all just fun and games anymore. This wasn't a young boy fresh out of school, willing to live the adventure of a lifetime. This was a man with genuine interest in his eyes, one that beckoned Zowie to open up to him like she had never done before. And although Zowie craved to spend as much time with Orlando as possible, breathe his scent and absorb as much of him as she could, she was torn. He offered her his support, yes, but the shame that simmered inside Zowie would have never allowed her to open up to him like he wished her to.

But she couldn't say no. With a sigh, she finally gave in.

“Okay.”

Orlando gave her a bright smile when she agreed, one that would have made her knees buckle had she been standing, and her heart fluttered at the sight. Only God knew what kind of hold Orlando had on her that had lasted for so long, but even if it killed her, Zowie would do whatever it was in her power to prevent it from disappearing. Geoff had told her in several occasions that she needed to open up, that not doing so had most likely led her to the stage she was in that instant, but even if she saw the right in Geoff's words, she would gladly cling to her old habits if that kept Orlando by her side.

With a wave and a smile followed by a supportive glance at Zowie that earned him the shakiest of smiles in return, Geoff sent them off. Two flights of stairs and a short walkway separated his apartment from South La Brea Avenue, both of which Orlando and Zowie transited in complete silence. A silence that, at least to her, felt heavy and uncomfortable under the weight of unspoken truths and dark secrets.

It wasn't the cold what made Zowie instinctively tug at the long sleeves of her thin blue sweater as they walked; it was the need to cover the traces of her past from curious eyes, but she almost failed when a warm hand delicately circled her wrist and stopped her in her tracks. With fear pooling in her stomach, Zowie contemplated with dreadful eyes as Orlando inched the sleeve upwards and exposed the tiniest patch of skin, her breath caught in her throat as she waited for the disgusted words that would surely pour from him at the sight of her scars.

His words, however, caught Zowie completely by surprise.

“I can't believe you still have this!”

There was shock in Orlando's deep voice, mingled with an utter disbelief as his fingers, strong and certain, traced Zowie's bracelet before toying with the paua shell in the middle. It took her some instants for rational thoughts to make their way through her initial fear, but when they did, Zowie's own astonishment took the front seat.

“You mean... the bracelet?”

Orlando nodded, his eyes capturing hers in a way that allowed no escape.

“You've kept it all these years?” Still stunned, Zowie couldn't see why he was so taken aback by his discovery. “Why?”

The answer to Orlando's question was so simple, so easy, Zowie didn't need to give it a second thought. Staring into his eyes with the most unguarded expression she had given him since the shock of their surprise meeting had faded, Zowie's words slipped easily from her lips.

“Because you gave it to me.”

The power, the meaning behind that innocent answer washed over him like nothing ever before. There was no denying; he knew he had been important to Zowie all those years ago and that she had had certain feelings for him, but what Orlando had never really got to comprehend was the kind of mark his presence had left in Zowie's life.

She had never forgotten him. All that time, Orlando had been a permanent fixture in her life, even if only in the form of a cheap bracelet he had bought ages ago and that, having costed him nothing more than a few dollars, had been forgotten a long time ago. For Zowie, however, the fact that he had given it to her had been enough to keep it no matter what. Now, scratched in some places and worn in others, the shell reminded Orlando of Zowie: both were bruised and wounded, but they endured, and now that destiny had crossed their paths again after all those years, he couldn't help but feel the weight of guilt pressing down on his shoulders.

When had he ever stopped to think about Zowie after _Rings_ ended? He had been in touch with her in the beginning, but as he grew busier and time passed, that contact had disappeared entirely. Her absence and time had done the rest and as his shoulders gave in under the weight of shame, the charms he wore around his neck moved under his sweater. He barely had any conscience of them anymore, but when they moved against him, Orlando felt that, perhaps, he hadn't been such a bad friend after all.

Zowie frowned in confusion when Orlando's free hand fished inside his sweater, pulling his charms out. She remembered those, remembered how the collection had grown during his time in New Zealand and how she had collaborated by giving him that coin, but what she hadn't expected, however, was to see that same coin glowing under the bright street lights of Los Angeles, the sight of it robbing her of her breath.

“Is that...?”

She couldn't possibly finish her question, for her entire being trembled; whether in joy or in fear of what that discovery might mean, Zowie didn't know. She had always thought of their presents to each other as something that bound them together, and Orlando's simple and almost shy nod brought a surge of hot tears to her eyes. Emotions overwhelmed her, and as a solitary tear rolled down her cheek, it was hard to tell what she actually cried for: because Orlando had kept her present all along and what that simple fact might mean, or because of the pain all her mistakes brought her.

Suddenly, Zowie felt frozen inside and shame and pain, in the frigid form of ice, crept up inside her, curling around her heart.

“Zowie? What-?”

“No!” She exclaimed, not letting Orlando finish his sentence as all her insecurities surged back to life. She was dirty. Tainted. Disgusting. How could he possibly want to be with someone like her, when the memory of all that she had done disgusted even Zowie herself?

Terrified by the haunted look in her wide blue eyes, Orlando could do little but stare at her, his mind frantically going over every one of his words.

“What's wrong, Zowie?” He asked, his arms itching to take her in his embrace but his feet firmly rooted to his spot, not wanting to upset her any further. His inner struggle, nonetheless, was clear in his eyes.

“I'm not the same person I used to be! How can you possibly still want to be friends with me after...”

“After I found out you're an addict? After your boyfriend beat you up so badly you ended up unconscious in a hospital for two days?”

Zowie felt all colour draining from her face, the chill inside her spreading until it took over her entire being. Wide-eyed, unable to pronounce a single word, she stared up at him, her heart thumping wildly in her chest.  Her eyes burning, and her mouth bitter with the taste of shame, there wasn't a single word she could utter.

“I know everything.” Orlando said, his voice soft and determined at the same time. “Geoff talked to me and Elijah some weeks ago during the première here in Los Angeles. I wanted to see you in the hospital, but Geoff thought it might do more harm than good. Still, I know everything.”

Dizzy, Zowie felt her brain working at the speed of light. Orlando knew. _Elijah_ knew. Her shame grew to bigger proportions, engulfing her whole. Two people who had meant the world to her, people she would have tried at all costs to keep in the dark regarding her past, knew everything. Open, bare, helpless and scared, tears rolled down her cheeks, blurring the sight of Orlando as he remained fixed to his spot.

“How can you still want to be here, then? Why aren't you disgusted?”

A frown darkened Orlando's face with a cloud of confusion before the true meaning of Zowie's words unravelled the anger inside him.

“What on Earth are you talking about, Zowie?”

“I'm talking about _this_ , Orlando!” She answered, her voice mirroring his own as she pointed at herself with both hands. “I'm not the Zowie you once knew. I'm different, I made mistakes, I'm... disgusting!”

Every word that came out of Zowie's mouth only managed to confuse Orlando even further.

“We all make mistakes, Zowie, but that doesn't mean we're horrible people because of that.”

Zowie threw her hands up in frustration. He might know, yes, but he was a long distance from understanding what she was going through.

“Can't you see? This isn't me sneaking out of my house. This is me becoming an addict, Orlando. _A junkie_!” She exclaimed just in case he hadn't quite understood what she was talking about. “I'm talking about meth, heroine. I'm talking about hooking up with a dealer and moving in with him. I'm talking about my boyfriend wanting to kill me for trying to leave him. Lying to my parents, that was a mistake. Putting my life in danger just to grant my next fix? That was stupid!”

As if giving way under the weight in her heart, her knees buckled and hadn't Orlando caught her, Zowie would have probably collapsed on the sidewalk. She was drained, exhausted, all her wounds open and bleeding once again and no matter how angry she could be at Orlando for not understanding, his support and the warmth of his body against hers were more than welcome. They didn't thaw the chill that fiercely clung to her heart, but they did make her feel a little less desperate.

Looking up at him, Zowie repeated in a soft voice.

“How can you not be disgusted?”

Orlando stared at her, looking at her as if he saw her for the first time. The Zowie he held in his arms? She was nothing like the one he had left behind in Wellington. She had gone through a lot, and although he couldn't deny a lot of it had been self-inflicted, when Orlando stopped to think of the pain she surely felt, the thought hit him like a lightning going through his heart.

“Because I know you.” Orlando finally answered, his hands leaving her arms and tentatively moving towards her back. When Zowie didn't back away or protest, he inched her closer to him. “And because I know it seems horrible now, but with time you'll be able to put everything into perspective. I'm not saying it will be easy.” Orlando hurried to add when Zowie opened her mouth to protest. “But you're not alone. Not anymore. Geoff is here, I'm here and even if he's not around at the moment, Elijah is in as well. You have help, Zowie, and no matter what, Matt can't get to you anymore.”

The name of her ex boyfriend on the lips of the man she had always loved sent a weird feeling to Zowie's heart.

“This is so... hard.” She finally said, her eyes drifting away from his and settling on her current home in the distance. “On one hand I thought quitting would make everything better, but at the same time... at the same time I wish I could escape from moments like this the way I used to.”

“No one said this would be easy.” Orlando said, feeling her body warm up against his. Then, with a more serious tone, he added. “Is the craving, you know... too bad?”

“It's not the same as it used to be.” Zowie answered. “It's not that desperate need to take drugs anymore. The implant helps with that. But there are times when my thoughts get too much, when I wish I could do it again if only to forget everything for a while.”

Cupping her cheek in one hand, Orlando tipped her face until she was staring at him.

“You have to be strong, you hear me? I could ask you to be strong for me, for anyone else you can think of, but you need to be strong for yourself. I can help, but at the end of the day, it's you who has to make all the decisions.” Giving her a tiny smile, Orlando said. “I know you can do this, Zow. You're stronger than you think, and God knows you're stubborn enough to pull off anything you want to do.”

The ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of Zowie's lips. Stubborn, that she certainly was. Problem was, _stubborn_ was what had got her in all that mess in the first place.

Her silence continued, and Orlando futilely looked around for a spot where they could sit, finding nothing available other than the curb. It didn't seem like the most appropriate thing to do, but it was clean and Zowie looked like she really needed to sit down, no matter where. Sliding an arm around her waist, Orlando led her to his chosen spot near a street light. She didn't complain, and once sitting down, he pulled her close until her head rested on his shoulder.

The scenery was a completely different, a whole other time, but sitting there with Zowie felt so familiar to Orlando, they could have very well been back in Wellington, sitting in the small terrace of his house in Seatoun, or contemplating the sunrise or sunset in the distance in one of the many locations they had visited while shooting.

It was, nonetheless, very different at the same time. Back then, Zowie's biggest worry had been finding the perfect dress for her Leaver's Ball and winning the football cup with her school team, and her freedom, her lust for life, had surrounded her like a halo. So had her trust for him, and that same thing was what made Orlando feel that his own share of guilt in all of that was much bigger than he had ever considered.

How come he had never read the signs? Looking back, Orlando could see that Zowie had left plenty of them laying around, waiting for someone to hear her cry for help. How had _he_ been so damn blind as to not see that what Zowie truly masked behind her pretended strength and stubbornness was nothing but pure fear? Finding out what her dad had hidden from them all along had been a devastating blow Zowie had obviously never been able to recover from. She had adored William, and finding out that he wasn't the man she had idolised all her life had shifted Zowie's entire world.

Orlando couldn't blame her, but he did resent the fact that she had never asked for help. What he resented the most, however, was not being able to see right away what was wrong with her. He should have seen beyond her pretence and pushed and prodded until Zowie finally told him what he needed to know. But he hadn't; instead, he had chosen the easy way out. Orlando had always held Zowie dear, but he could now see that he had, whether inadvertently or not, always shied away from the responsibility of helping her. She had trusted him back then. Hell, she trusted him even _now_ , after not having heard from him in years! All Orlando would have needed to do back then was prod a little, scratch the tough façade until the truth surfaced, but he hadn't, and now they were all dealing with the consequences. Consequences that could have been much, much worse, he thought with a shiver.

The thought of what could have happened to Zowie chilled Orlando's heart, and just thinking that they could have lost her without even knowing knotted his stomach with terror and made his heart heavy with guilt. She was a friend and although he hadn't properly cared for her in the past, he now had the chance to make up for the lost time. Six months laid ahead, six months of spending time together. If there was anything he could do to help this new Zowie become a full, happier person again, then Orlando would do it. He owed it to her, and he owed it to their friendship.

“Orlando?”

The sound of her voice calling his name took him by surprise and looking down at her, he found Zowie's blue eyes staring up at him with an unguarded look that made his heart skip a beat. The openness in them touched him, but so did the intense blue that coloured those irises. They seemed older, yes, but the vulnerability and helplessness in them was a painful reminder of how young Zowie truly was. Twenty-one years old, Orlando mused. She should be throwing parties in a college dorm somewhere in New Zealand, not sitting in a curb in Los Angeles, her eyes shiny with unshed tears! But there they were, and the beauty of those eyes managed to capture him.

Even after all that had happened, Zowie still was that beautiful girl he had instantly been attracted to four years ago, the one who had fascinated him until he had realised how much he, and her as well, had to lose if he let his hormones rule him. That was still very much a part of her, but with the added charm of the first flush of youth gone and replaced by a hint of adulthood that settled her wonderfully, Orlando discovered that Zowie was on her way to becoming a lovely, lovely woman. Her hair was still long, and even if it seemed a little darker now, that could very well be a trick of the light. Her lips, full and soft, were slightly parted and her jaw, that feature of her that expressed her stubbornness and determination, was just as he remembered it, if only a little sharper with her body having assumed its adult form. Lovely indeed, he mused.

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” She said, leaning closer to him. “For understanding.”

Orlando smiled, his arm tightening around her one more time.

“Always, Zow.” He murmured, planting a light kiss on her hair. “Always.”


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18.**

 

Zowie was alone. The apartment was silent around her and the strict instructions Geoff had barked at her as he walked out the door resounded around her. Nevertheless, she still laid on her back on the sofa that served as her bed, eyes focused on the picture she held in her hands.

 _“I was sorting through some stuff the other day... packing, you know?”_ Orlando had said. _“Anyway, I came across this and I thought you might want to have it.”_

And he had been right – Zowie indeed wanted to have that photograph. But just like any other piece of her past, it brought so many different emotions to life, she couldn't quite determine what she truly felt.

The picture itself radiated happiness, Zowie's own smile the widest and most joyful of all. How could it not be that way? She had been celebrating her 18th birthday and Orlando's arm was firmly thrown around her waist, holding her tight. She was surrounded by friends and loved ones, and although seeing her siblings and Viggo, Billy and Dominic warmed her heart, the sight of Elijah and Brooke's smiling faces cast a thick, dark shadow over whatever happiness the picture had brought.

Sadness, regret, shame... they all exploded inside her when Zowie's eyes settled on Brooke. They had been best friends for so long, had gone through so much together and yet, their friendship had ended in the most horrible way. She had spent years convincing herself that Brooke didn't deserve her friendship, that she didn't want it and that she could never understand her, but looking back in time, Zowie could see the truth. _She_ was the one who didn't deserve Brooke's friendship, who couldn't see how valuable her support was. Lost and confused, so sure that drugs were the answer to everything, Zowie had thrown their relationship away to be miserable on her own, to bask in self-pity without anyone forcing her to ask herself what she was doing.

A similar feeling took over her when Zowie stared at her siblings. What had she done to that relationship, other than lead it to a painful death? Instead of telling them what was going on and seek their help, she had pushed them away. And then there was Elijah, who had done so many things for her, Zowie felt she owed him the world. He had kept her night with Orlando a secret even though he hated the idea just because she had asked him to and now, despite knowing what she had done, he still offered her his help, an idea that did nothing but fuel the fire of shame inside her that never seemed to go away. She didn't deserve a friend like him, not with all the mistakes she had made, and knowing what she had done to her loved ones and to herself filled her with misery. She had lost everything. All that she had of her family, of her past, even, was that piece of paper that trembled in her shaky hands. And it tore her heart to pieces.

There was something she could do about it, though: listen to Geoff and call her mum as he had ordered her to.

He had been so casual about it, that Zowie had never seen it coming. What better excuse than the oncoming New Year, Geoff had said, to call her family and re-establish some contact with them? He made it sound like the easiest thing in the world, but Zowie knew better: after being so deliberately hurtful the last time she had seen them, there was no way she could face her family and expect them to forgive her. She had been so sure that she would succeed, that she would make it in Hollywood, that dealing with the consequences of her actions had never crossed her mind. They did now, and although William had deserved every bit of it, she realised that Noemie, Jared and Jewell hadn't.

Zowie closed her eyes, the oppression of the oncoming task heavy on her heart. As far as she could see, there were only two options left for her: she could either call her mum, or have another argument with Geoff when he came back and found out that she hadn't even picked up the phone. And while the former seemed impossible, the latter filled her very soul with guilt, for Geoff always had her best interests in mind.

Sighing heavily, Zowie sat up. Posing the picture on the sofa beside her with great care and curling her legs under her body, she then let her eyes fall on the phone. If she did as much as reach out, the receiver would be in her hand, but the distance held a meaning that made it impossibly long to Zowie's eyes. Caught in a crossroads, she didn't want to talk to her family and unearth feelings and emotions that were safely tucked deep inside her, but she didn't want to anger Geoff either, and a battle raged inside her. What should she do? But above all, what did she _want_ to do? Did she feel comfortable calling her mum and admitting her mistakes? Did she feel comfortable with the idea of facing Geoff and angering him? Too much was at stake, no matter which path she chose: she could either kill what little bond connecting her to her past and loved ones still remained, or she could infuriate Geoff beyond belief, and lose her chance to be with Orlando, and both ideas were equally nightmarish to her.

The number was still the same, Geoff had said, and as Zowie's sweaty palm picked up the receiver, her heart pounded in her chest. How was she going to do that? How was she supposed to unload three years of secrets on her mum's lap? Zowie and Noemie might have clashed her entire life, but God knew her mum didn't deserve this! It had taken her years and many, many mistakes to understand that Noemie loved her, and that all she wanted to do was keep her safe and unharmed, and that though made the oncoming task harder and heavier.

Before she realised, however, her fingers had begun moving over the phone, dialling a number that was deeply engraved in her memory. It wouldn't be easy. It would be hell. But she remembered hearing once that a substantial part of embarking on a drug recovery process was making amends with the family that had been left behind, and if Orlando had been able to forgive her, who said her mum couldn't do it as well?

“Hello?”

The sudden sound of a female voice on the other end of the line jerked Zowie back to reality. Her heart pounded against her ribs in a way that put her previous anxiety to shame and her mouth, suddenly dry, couldn't form an answer as memories swirled in her mind. That voice was the first one Zowie had ever heard, the one that had nursed her when sick and that had argued with her countless times before. It was also the same one that had begged her not to leave one summer afternoon in Wellington nearly three years ago, and that Zowie had taken great delight on hurting that day.

“Is there anyone there, hello?”

The annoyance was so obvious in Noemie's voice, that Zowie wondered if she had interrupted something. Gathering every bit of her will power, she then took a deep breath and answered in a trembling, insecure voice.

“Mum?” A profound silence filled the line. Then, with a voice so soft Zowie herself had trouble hearing, she repeated. “Mum, it's me.”

The stunned silence was short-lived, but it lasted enough to make Zowie's heart stop beating as apprehension took over her. She had been right. All her fears had been real and Noemie didn't want to have anything to do with her. She didn't want to talk to her or listen to her, and...

“Zowie?”

The most absolute form of disbelief tinted Noemie's question, and Zowie's heart took a few stumbles before racing forward once again. She had been so sure that she would have to tell her mum who she was, that hearing her name spoken in a soft, disbelieving voice made her see how wrong she had been. Did Zowie truly expect Noemie to forget all about her, no matter how long they had spent apart?

“Zowie, are you there?”

“Yes, mum. I'm here.” She said, her voice strangled with the tears that suddenly tightened her throat. “How... how are you?”

A gasp echoed in the line.

“How am _I_? Zowie, how are _you_!” Noemie exclaimed, sounding almost aggravated. “Where are you? Are you alright?”

The questions, albeit expected, brought a tingle of nervousness to Zowie and she hurried to answer, hoping against hope to control the worst of it.

“I'm fine, mum. I'm really fine, don't worry. I'm in Los Angeles. In fact, I'm living with Geoff.”

Another moment of shocked silence filled the line before Noemie's disbelieving voice came through once again.

“Geoff? Geoff Grant? Why would you live with him?”

Hadn't she been so painfully aware of the possible outcome of her mother's questions, Zowie could have grinned at Noemie's utter disbelief.

“Yes, that Geoff. I moved in with him some weeks ago.” Carefully choosing her next words as to not alarm her mum, Zowie added. “I... I had to leave my old apartment and he offered me a place to stay for a while.”

When Noemie answered, however, it was as if Zowie had never spoken; as if now that the doors were open and her initial surprise was gone, more urgent matters came to mind. Matters that unsettled Zowie greatly.

“Why did you never call, Zowie? We were worried sick! I had no idea where you were, whether you were alright or not, if something had happened to you... You never gave us a number or a way to contact you either, and...” Noemie let out a trembling sigh. “Why, Zowie? What happened to you?”

How could she possibly begin to explain the ordeal she had gone through without having her mum jumping on the next plane to LA? It would be a miracle if she didn't show up at her doorstep in a few days as it was.

“I'm fine, mum. I had a rough time for a while, I admit it, but everything is well now. Truth is I couldn't find a job and I didn't want to worry you all, but everything's alright now. Geoff has taken me in and I even have a new job. I'm assisting him in his next movie, we're already working with the actors and it's great to be back.”

Did her enthusiasm sound half as phony to Noemie as it did to her? Zowie bet it did.

“But what about before? Zowie, we haven't heard from you in two years. _Two_ years! Do you have any idea what it was like for me not to know whether you were alive or-” Noemie's voice caught before she could even pronounce the word, and Zowie could only begin to imagine how horrible the thought was to her mum. If only Noemie knew how close to making her worse fear come true her daughter had been, she mused. “We even thought of flying over there to search for you, but we didn't know where to start. We had no address, no phone number, nothing. We knew you had a job at one point, but that was it. It was horrible, Zowie! A complete nightmare!”

When her mum's voice broke, Zowie's eyes stung with hot tears of shame, a feeling that seemed to have taken permanent residence inside her. Stepping into her mum's shoes for a moment, she tried to look at the past three years through her eyes, and all she could see was how she had put her mum through a state of constant doubt and uncertainty that could have very well killed a weaker person. Self-loathing replaced shame then, burning like a searing knife piercing her heart.

Should she tell her mum the truth now? Zowie analysed the possible outcomes. If she did, the only thing she would achieve would be bringing her mother rushing to Los Angeles, and Zowie still needed time to adjust to her new reality, to that new drug-free person she was before having her mum around, no matter how good her intentions were. Nonetheless, not telling Noemie meant that Zowie would have to do it at a later point, and delaying her confession could very well not be the wisest decision. It did seem, in that instant, the easiest way out, and that was something Zowie was very familiar with.

“I'm sorry, mum. I'm so, so sorry.” She murmured into the receiver, her eyes closed and her head hanging low in shame. And she meant every single word; Noemie couldn't even begin to fathom how much Zowie regretted having put them through such agony. “I've been horrible and I know it, but... it wasn't easy for me to talk to you or write you guys an email and admit things here weren't as perfect as I had imagined. You know me. I preferred to go through all that alone and deal with it on my own. It was wrong, I know that, but I'm here now. I'm back.”

That was as far as Zowie could go without telling her mum the most gruesome details of her time with Matt. She would share them with her one day, but right now, her heart begged her not to. If she had to bare her soul to her mum, she would break.

She didn't know whether Noemie was truly convinced by her rather general explanation, or if she just decided to hold on to what little Zowie offered her and keep her by her side now that she was back, but when she sighed, Zowie imagined she had settled for the latter. She knew, however, that not long would pass until she prodded for more.

“When will you be back, Zowie?” Noemie asked wistfully. “We all want to see you. Your brother and sister have missed you immensely. Your grandmothers will be over the moon to hear from you, and I know your dad will be just as relieved as I am.”

The mention of her father brought an instant steely tension to Zowie's body. She should have known Noemie would find a way to squeeze William into the conversation first chance she got and still, she hadn't been prepared for that and as a result, she now had even more on her plate that she had first intended. Zowie might regret the pain she had put her family through, but whatever her dad had felt at her departure? He deserved every bit of it, and nothing her mum said would change her mind. William had broken her heart and repeatedly stepped over it in the past, pushing her to make the worst decisions of her life, and a long time would pass before Zowie forgave him. If she ever did at all.

“I can't promise to visit you right now, mum. Geoff and I are travelling to Spain right after New Year and then on to Morocco, and we'll only be back in six months.” Then, trying to divert her mum's attention from her long silence after her dad's mention, she asked. “How are Jared and Jewell? Has he graduated already?” The idea of having missed such an important moment in her brother's life made Zowie's burden even heavier.

If Noemie thought anything of her refusal to talk about William, she refrained from pointing it out.

“Not yet, but he should be graduating next year.” She said. “Jay's at the top of his class, Zowie. His professors say he's got a bright future ahead.”

And not even for a minute did Zowie doubt how true those words were. If there was anyone out there who deserved every single good thing life had to offer, that was Jared. Not just because he was her brother and  almost her twin; it was because he was one of the nicest people she had ever met, and she knew he would use his future as a lawyer to do the right thing.

“And Jules?”

A soft chuckle filled the line, one Zowie welcomed greatly.

“Jewell is anxiously looking forward to graduate, and she and her friends have already begun looking for dresses for their Leavers' Ball. You know how she's been waiting for it ever since you had yours.” There was a hint of amusement in Noemie's voice, and Zowie couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips, clearly remembering Jewell bouncing with excitement as Zowie got ready for her own ball years ago.

“Is she even worse than me?” Her smile widened at the memories of her desperation at not finding the right dress, and then when recalling Elijah's scolding for her high heels.

“Give me some time and I'll let you know. I'm sure Jewell will be rather... _peculiar_ about her dress. It's a good thing she's very determined, though. Otherwise she would end up buying three dresses and never making up her mind about any of them.”

The light tone that coloured Noemie's voice rid Zowie's heart of some of the weight that their previous conversation had left there. Her mum sounded relieved, light; amused, even. It was so nice to hear her like that, to know her call hadn't only brought her pain. The outcome of the conversation might still be uncertain, but if she made a little good out of all the wrong she had done in the past, then she would consider herself satisfied.

But there was something Noemie held back, a fact about Jewell that she didn't want Zowie to know. The same girl who had once idolised her older sister and who couldn't wait to grow up to be just like her, now despised Zowie. It wasn't easy to live in the shadow Zowie had left behind, one that cloaked everyone with sadness and uncertainty, and although Jewell had too felt that way in the beginning, her feelings had changed. Zowie's act of disappearance, and the attention it had ensued from her entire family, had turned Jewell's love into spiteful rancour. She never mentioned her anymore and when others did, her body language spoke volumes of her feelings. How her youngest daughter would take Zowie's reappearance, Noemie had no idea.

“Tell them I called. Tell them that I love them and that I'm sorry I caused them so much pain.” At that, Zowie took a deep breath; if she made it through that conversation without breaking down, then she would feel more than accomplished. “And tell Nan and Gramma that I love them, okay? I'll get in touch with them too as soon as I can, I swear.”

No mention of contacting William in any shape or form; Zowie had deliberately left him out and now prayed her mum wouldn't push.

And Noemie didn't. Instead, she promised to transmit all her messages, and after letting Zowie know how much she loved her and how relieved she was that she had finally got in touch with them, Noemie made sure to get Geoff's number before hanging up. On one hand, Zowie was relieved that the call was ending and that some topics had been left uncovered, but on the other hand, she soon realised that she couldn't end the call without saying something else. She might not be ready to admit the worse of her mistakes, but this couldn't go unmentioned.

“And mum?”

“Yes?”

“I'm sorry about the way I left. It was cruel, I know, but I was so mad at everything and everyone, I couldn't control myself. I just didn't realise I was taking it out on the wrong people.”

The reality of how badly she had treated her loved ones the last time she had seen them was a heavy weight on Zowie's shoulders, and even though the apology would never erase the pain she had subjected them to, she did hope it eased some of the burden.

Her mum accepted the apology with tears in her voice, and after hanging up, Zowie let out a long, shaky breath. She had made it through the call without shedding a tear, but the moment her trembling hand set the receiver back in its place, there was not a single thing Zowie could do to stop the surge of hot tears that flowed down her cheeks. So many feelings clashed inside her, so many insecurities lit their beacons inside her, that although Zowie tried not to, she finally had to give in. Every bit of the pain she had caused her loved ones weighed down on her, and the pressure became too much; weak, she collapsed on her side on the sofa and curled into the tiniest ball she could form. She had never intended to make that call, but she had. And although knowing her mum still loved her no matter what, the weight of the secret she still held inside made that small victory pale. She had opened a door, but it was one she wasn't sure she could deal with.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19.**

 

How she wished she could run away.

But she couldn't, and realisation left Zowie standing in a corner of the training facilities, a sword in her hand and her eyes darting from one man to another. Orlando stood at the opposite end of the room talking to a man she didn't know and Geoff, although he stood not too far away from the actor, didn't bother hiding the stern look on his face as he looked at her, and a pang of anger mixed with the guilt inside her. Zowie didn't like this new Geoff who gave orders that had nothing to do with her work and that got involved with things that, although seemingly easy, meant a torture to her. And she especially didn't like his latest order: come clean with Orlando before Geoff himself did it for her.

She definitely had no way out.

~*~

_Recovering from a conversation such as the one she had had with her mum wasn't easy, but Zowie still tried and as the day passed, she busied herself with the most trivial of tasks. She should have known, however, that giving her mum the means to contact her meant opening a door to something she wasn't entirely prepared to deal with. Innocently, she thought she would be offered some time first; time to adjust, to deal with the tangle of emotions inside her before the rest of her family flooded her with calls, and Zowie had been so sure that would be the case, she never expected to go through all that twice in the same day._

_Jared's call came merely hours after Zowie talked to Noemie and although talking to her brother was a joyful experience, it also took its toll on her. So glad she was to hear his voice, that Zowie could have spent hours on the phone, but the moment he gently began to prod at her edges for a way into her secrets, it took everything Zowie possessed not to hang up, a feeling intensified by the way Geoff never took his eyes from her. Trapped, Zowie discovered herself wishing she could run away and numb herself with the first drug she could find, and although the idea shamed her, only the thought of stumbling upon Matt could keep her in the safety of her house._

_But without a fake relief that numbed her to the anxiety, the emotions that bubbled up inside her and the pressure that rested on her shoulders, Zowie had no means to deal with the enormity of what had happened when it finally hit her. Soon, she crossed over the point of no return, and a familiar feeling she hadn't experienced in a long time came back, hitting her with an unknown and unexpected force._

_She had felt it all before. Her heart running wild, the anguish that spread like a wild fire inside her, not being able to breathe... that wasn't new to Zowie. Yet, the power with which it hit her that time was something she had never experienced before._

_Had those episodes always been this strong? As she stumbled to the bathroom hoping to hide there until the worst of it passed, Zowie couldn't remember a single time when the feeling was so intense. She had felt smothered before, yes, had felt like nothing but the thinnest ribbon of air entered her lungs, but that sense of impending death she felt in that instant? That was new. And terrifying. Collapsing on the bathroom floor, she could do little else but stare up at Geoff as he came in behind her, pale and wide-eyed as she gasped for breath._

_Next morning, when she woke up disoriented at finding herself in Geoff's bed instead of her own, there was little Zowie could remember of the previous day's events. She did recall running to the bathroom and collapsing there, and although her memories became fuzzy around the edges, she did have a vague recollection of a man in a doctor's robe coming in. Was that real, though? After years of drug-induced hallucinations, Zowie wasn't sure, and it wasn't until Geoff's head popped through the open door that she understood the importance of what had happened._

_The minute he sat down on the bed beside her and silently looked down at her, Zowie knew she had a lot to explain. And he listened to it, with no other obvious sign of the emotions simmering inside him than the tightening of his jaw._

_“These episodes, as you call them, are panic attacks, and are caused by intense fear or apprehension.” Geoff explained with a strained patience after the long silence that followed Zowie's final word. “The doctor that came in had to sedate you, Zowie... you could barely breathe!”_

_Finding out she had been sedated was indeed a shock, but Geoff's explanation? Not so much. She remembered hearing about panic attacks before, and although she had never linked them to what ailed her, Zowie had to admit it was the perfect explanation; after all, fear and anxiety were feelings that had been a permanent fixture in her life in the past years._

_But as much as knowing what it was that affected her so much relieved her, Zowie wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of sharing it with others, so sitting up, she made Geoff a request that had been circling in her head since watching him come in._

_“Please don't tell Orlando about this.” She begged, ready to plead on her knees if necessary._

_Her request, however, didn't have the desired effect._

_“Will you ever stop lying, Zowie? To yourself, to others? Because you're not doing yourself any favours as it is!” Geoff tried to keep his voice down, but as the words left his lips, his tone grew angrier. “I want to help you, we all do and you know it, but it's not going to happen unless you stop pushing people away. We're not Matt, Zowie. You can open up to me, to Orlando, and we're not going to kick you out or try to kill you just because you admit having a problem!”_

_Geoff's words were like a bucket of frigid water thrown to her face. Even though there was an undeniable truth behind them, knowing that didn't make things any easier for her; Zowie felt pushed, rushed, led in a direction she wasn't entirely ready to take in that moment, and she had feared the outcome of it all. This went beyond her fearing Orlando's rejection once again; right now, Zowie feared for herself, for in moments like this she felt teetering on the edge so precariously, anything could push her over in the most dramatic way._

~*~

It didn't matter how many times she went over that conversation, Zowie still found no way out, and that was precisely the reason why she now sat in a corner at the training facilities, her eyes fixed on Orlando's back with a look that was half longing and half afraid.

When Orlando patted the man he was talking to on the back, gave him a smile and then turned around and headed towards her, a knot of anticipation twisted painfully in Zowie's stomach. There she was, less than twenty-four hours after her attack, waiting to sit down with Orlando and tell him everything. _Everything_ , Geoff had emphasised, otherwise he would gladly fill Orlando in on whatever details she decided to leave out, and she wasn't going to let that happen. Geoff had been clear: he was still as supportive as ever, but the time for blind support was over unless Zowie did her own part. This was her effort and no one else's, Geoff had told her. They could help her, they could support her, but at the end of the day it was her who had to make the right decisions. It was so similar to what Orlando had told her that night outside her apartment that a shiver trickled down Zowie's spine. Nothing like the finality of an order to make her anxious.

Orlando smiled at her, and Zowie couldn't help the smile that played on her own lips at the sight. She was growing more accustomed to this new him, to his broader shoulders, well-toned body, even the long curls that hadn't been there when they met, and she greedily drank all that in as he approached her.

“I'm going to miss this when they take it off you.” He said as he reached her spot. Then, sitting down beside her, Orlando's hand slid behind Zowie's neck, bringing her close to pose a kiss on her cheek that brought a  tiny little shiver to her spine. Images of a night long ago stirred to life, but they were bittersweet; her dream had nearly come true, but all she had achieved was to end up a crying mess and opening the door to years of drug addiction.

Trying hard to erase those thoughts from her mind, Zowie mentally shook her head before asking in confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

“This.” Orlando said, pointing the cast in her arm. “I thought you were counting the days.”

At last, Zowie smiled, shaking her head as a light blush crept up her cheeks. She was indeed waiting anxiously for the day when she would come back from the hospital with her arm free and ready to take on the adventure ahead, but the episode from the weekend had erased everything else from her mind.

“Only two more days to go.” She said, forcing a light tone to her voice. The combination of the bitter taste the memories had left in her mouth and the tension for what she was about to say wasn't doing her any favours. “How was your weekend?”

“If by _weekend_ you mean the two days I spent going over scripts, wardrobe fittings and meetings with producers, then I'm sure you had a much better time.” He said. “Did you guys do anything interesting?”

Zowie shifted in her seat, catching Geoff's eye in the distance. Orlando was giving her an opening she couldn't waste, so giving Geoff a brief, almost imperceptible nod, she then turned her attention back to the actor.

“Not really. There's something I want to talk to you about, though.” Orlando nodded, resting his elbows on his knees and giving her his undivided attention, something that made the knot in her stomach twist even more painfully. “I... I sort of had a problem this weekend. In fact, I _did_ have a problem.” She said, and when she realised she was making no sense, Zowie took another deep breath and tried a different approach. “Have you ever heard of panic attacks, Orlando?”

“Yes, sure. I never had one, but I've heard they're awful.” His voice was casual as he answered, but she didn't miss the moment his brown eyes widened before falling upon her. “Zowie, did you...?”

She nodded, his shock evident at her answer.

“There's another thing.” Zowie said, and the words physically hurt her on the way out, making her wonder if she would ever stop feeling ashamed of her past actions. Avoiding his inquisitive brown eyes, she continued. “It's not the first time something like this happens. I hadn't had one in a long, long time, that's true, but I used to have attacks like the one I had on Saturday quite often when I still lived in New Zealand, Orlando. They started around the time Jared and I discovered... well, my dad's secret life.” Bitterness coloured her tone. Her parents' divorce had indeed had a lot to do with the development of that condition, but Orlando too had his part in it, although she would never mention it out loud.

“Zow-”

  
She interrupted him before he could go on.

“I've got to say this in one go, otherwise I'll never have the courage to do it again, and I promised Geoff I'd tell you everything, that I wouldn't keep any more secrets between us.” Taking a deep breath, she continued. “I've had several attacks in the past, but I had no idea what they were, not until last Saturday. Back in the day drugs would make them go away, so I took them. It's horrible, Orlando... it's horrible to feel like you're being smothered to death.” A little shiver coursed her body, and Zowie looked down at her hands, which she had been unconsciously wringing together. “I talked to my family last Saturday, and it affected me more than I ever imagined it would. There was so much tension, so much anxiety inside me, that a panic attack was the way my body had of letting it all out, I suppose.”

Dumbfounded, wide-eyed, Orlando simply sat there as his brain worked at the speed of light trying to understand everything Zowie had just said. God, he didn't even know where to start!

He thought he knew it all: Zowie's condition, what she needed to get better, what he could do to help her, but what he had just heard made him realise how truly in the dark he was. Panic attacks she had tried to cure by taking drugs? Events that went as far back as his time in New Zealand? What else was there that he had no idea of?

“Why didn't you say anything about this before, Zowie?” He spat angrily, unable to contain himself. “Like when we were still in New Zealand, for example? When it first happened?”

Zowie flinched at the obvious harshness in Orlando's voice. His whole body was taut with tension, and if there had ever been a time Zowie had felt more afraid he would get enough of her problems and walk away, she couldn't remember it, and tears knotted her throat at the sight. Had she really expected him to take the news any differently, though? How many more revelations could Orlando stand before he realised he had had enough of her problems? Any other person would have smiled understandingly and then scrambled away from her the minute she turned her back on them. She was far too problematic, Zowie realised. She only meant one problem after the other, and nothing in the world said Orlando had any sort of obligation towards her.

“I couldn't, Orlando! I... I didn't know how!” She stammered, tears stinging in her eyes and tightening her throat like a vice. “There was so much going on, you were so busy, everyone else was... How could I possibly unload another problem on yours and Elijah's lap when you guys already had enough trying to help me out as it was?”

The look Orlando gave her was a mix of desolation and disapproval that sent Zowie's heart hammering in her chest.

“Do you realise what could have happened to you? And then taking drugs to make it disappear, don't even get me _started_ on that one. There was so many people you could have talked to if you didn't want to bother me or Elijah...”

“No one would have understood, Orlando.” Zowie said interrupting him, her eyes looking at the floor beneath her feet since she was unable to meet his disapproving eyes without weeping in the spot. “Everyone already had too much on their plates as it was and I wasn't going to add any more issues to it.”

“But you knew a lot of other people you could talk to no matter how busy we were, Zowie!” Orlando exclaimed after letting out a short, exasperated sigh. He lowered his voice, however, when he realised his outburst had attracted a lot of unwanted attention from Zowie's co-workers. “Your mum, I understand it to a certain extent if you didn't want to load her with any more problems, but don't you think she would have preferred to hear about it from yourself instead of walking up to you one day and have no idea what was going on? And what about Brooke? She was your best friend back then.”

At that, Zowie stiffened.

“You said it yourself. My mum _was_ full of problems and she didn't need any more as it was. And as for Brooke, she was away. She was studying, making her dream come true. Why bother her with my issues?”

Her answer compelled Orlando to run an exasperated hand through his curls. He never thought the day would come when he would feel mad at Zowie, but with every word she said, his patience grew thinner and thinner. They had known each other for a long time, had spent days together either working or training and although Orlando had seen every side of Zowie – from the adorable girl to the whimsical one, from the  brave swords woman to the spoiled little girl -, he thought he was beyond getting annoyed by anything she did. In that moment, however, Orlando felt more anger growing inside him than he had ever felt before.

Zowie refused all sort of help. She had never mentioned her panic attacks in New Zealand; instead, she had masked the symptoms with drugs. She had hooked up with a drug dealer instead of asking her parents for help, and she had even had a hard time accepting the hand Geoff offered her even though she had no other place to go. God knew she could have easily gone on without telling Orlando about her addiction and her past shared with Matt hadn't she been pushed into it, and the thought angered him even more. Giving her a steely look, he asked.

“Why is it so hard for you to ask for help, Zowie? Is it pride or just plain stupidity?” He had never meant to be so harsh, but the anger inside him smothered the usual gentleness he used with Zowie. “There's so many people willing to help you, why do you keep pushing them aside? I'm willing to bet you didn't even tell your mum half the things you went through since coming to LA.”

At his words, Zowie physically felt all colour draining from her face, for this was her worst nightmare coming true. Every time her mind tortured her with the image of Orlando walking away, it was careful to depict him turning her back on her without saying a word. This man before her, whose words wound her heart not only because it was him who said them, but also because of the sheer truth in them, was something her heart had never dared to conjure, for it tore her to pieces to even think about it.

But it was real. It was happening. And what hurt Zowie the most, was that she had brought it all upon herself.

“I... I told her some things, but-” What had started out as an attempt to explain herself, to justify her actions, died before she could even mutter the entire sentence. What could she possibly say? That she hadn't wanted to unload all her problems on her mum because she already had enough as it was? That Jared didn't need to hear anything about it because he needed to concentrate on his studies and not on her sister's mistakes? That she was making everything better now? The answer Orlando would have for each of those statements resounded in her mind even if he didn't speak the words out loud.

“You know what's your problem is, Zowie?” Orlando snapped. “I'm not sure you honestly want to keep us from worrying. I think you actually like the idea of being miserable.”

His words like barbedwire tightening around her heart, Zowie could do little else but follow Orlando with her gaze as he stood up. Her blue eyes sparkled with unshed tears that blurred his form, but she blinked hard, enough to clearly detect the stern look he was giving her. Orlando was serious... so serious! Even more so than ever before, and fear suddenly choked her. Orlando had put up with a lot, that was for sure. He had stood by her, supported her and understood her, but that moment in the training room, right after she admitted another secret part of her past, Zowie had the feeling Orlando had reached his limit.

“I tried my best, Zowie.” His voice was even, firm. It wasn't overly cold, but Zowie's heart chilled with terror and realisation all the same. “I swear. But until you learn not to keep things from those who are trying to help you, I'm out.”

Zowie didn't blink. She even forgot how to breathe altogether. Staring at Orlando's back as he walked away from her with long strides, Zowie felt as if a vital part of her had been brutally torn apart and a deep, shuddering breath shook her from head to toe.

He had finally had enough. Orlando had finally decided Zowie wasn't worth the effort anymore. When that thought entwined itself with the ever present feeling inside Zowie that she was nothing but a problem to Geoff, a void opened up inside her. Orlando didn't want her. He had walked away from her. She was a thorn stuck on everyone's side, worrying them all and unable to make things better for them. She wanted to get better and God knew she tried, but when those things happened, Zowie longed for nothing but to run out and get a fix of anything in the nearest corner. If that was the way she had dealt with problems for a long time, why change now?

When she suddenly caught sight of Geoff coming towards her, Zowie knew she couldn't talk to him without attacking him for what he had made her do, so drawing a shuddering breath, she rapidly stood up headed towards the bathroom. It might prove to be not much of a shelter, but as long as she could close a door, any door behind her, then she would be happy.

Geoff stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes following Zowie as she quickly left the training room, dread pooling in his stomach. He had no way of knowing what had been said between them, but the moment Orlando headed in one direction with a grave expression on his face and Zowie ran in the opposite one looking like she would burst into tears in any minute, Geoff didn't need to ask. Nothing good could have happened and for the first time he wondered how right he had been in pushing Zowie. Sighing, he followed her from a safe distance, preparing himself for the worst.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20.**

 

Walking away was the hardest thing he had ever done.

God knew it tore Orlando's heart to pieces to stand up and leave Zowie behind, but as angry and frustrated as he had been that day, walking away was the only thing he could do to keep himself from exploding. Although he loved Zowie and would do anything to help her, he had reached his limit. If she needed help so badly, then why was it so hard for her to ask for it?

Yet, no matter how mad at her he could be, how determined to stay away from her until all his anger cooled off, seeing Zowie every day was a test harder than Orlando could have ever predicted. Three days had passed since their argument, and although Zowie showed no obvious signs of having gone through that at all, Orlando's eye was trained enough to notice the subtle signs everyone else missed. Nonetheless, nothing could have warned him to what seeing them would do to him.

Zowie's stubbornness infuriated him. Every day she stood there, sword in hand and blank face, following Geoff's orders and teaching Orlando just like she always did. And everyday, he felt like snapping at her. There were times when he just wanted to push her harder and harder while they trained until she finally broke down and showed some sign of emotion, but would that work when dealing with an expert at keeping things secret? It was only the dullness in her usually bright blue eyes and the circles under her eyes that no make up could conceal what told Orlando that she wasn't as unaffected as she wanted him to believe.

A million times had Orlando almost caved in and talked to her, but every time, he reminded himself that she needed to learn to trust him as much as she claimed she did. And until Zowie herself came to him, then he would have to stay firm in his own two feet, no matter how hard it could be; if Zowie didn't waver, then neither would he.

Tying his shoelaces in a hurry, Orlando left the changing room with a heavy heart, already psyching himself up for what seemed to be another day of witnessing how Zowie clung to her stubbornness and denied their help. Not a nice prospect by any means, but something he would have to learn to deal with if he wanted Zowie to see the error of her ways. Would the six days they would spend apart until they flew to Spain be enough for her to think things over, though? After sharing hours with Zowie in the past three days, something inside him doubted such a thing could happen, and that was precisely why finding Zowie waiting for him outside the changing room caught him so completely by surprise.

Shock made Orlando stop dead in his tracks. Less than five steps away from the door, Zowie stood with her back against the wall with her eyes focused on something so interesting on the opposite wall, she didn't seem to have noticed his presence. With her usual training attire consisting of sweatpants and long sleeved t-shirt, there was still something that caught his eye immediately. Perhaps it was the shock at finding her there after how adamantly she had stayed out of his way for days, but Orlando couldn't help focusing on what probably was the most unimportant fact of all.

“It's gone.”

Seconds passed in silence before Zowie finally tore her eyes from the wall, and Orlando didn't miss how slowly and almost reluctantly they finally settled on him. She studied him for a second, but her blue eyes were so guarded, they gave nothing away. Her eyes following his, Zowie noticed straight away what he referred to and, patting her cast-free arm somewhat awkwardly, she nodded curtly.

“Yes. Last night.”

Orlando nodded in return, feeling a pang of guilt when hearing the news. He had never promised to be there when the doctors finally removed her cast, but he would have liked to remember that simple fact nonetheless.

“Good.”

Zowie studied him after his brief answer, but no matter how hard she tried to probe under the wall he had put around him, nothing worked, and it made her feel totally and completely lost. Never had there been a moment between them that Zowie hadn't known what he was thinking or hadn't been able to figure it out, but of course, Orlando had never so mad at her to begin with, and it left Zowie in an absolute state of confusion. For once, she had no idea where they stood anymore. He had always been there for her, had always been a rock she could lean on and having that taken away from her left her alternating between bouts of anger and grief.

Geoff had tried to talk to her, but once the initial misery had given way to anger, it had taken everything Zowie possessed not to snap at him the way she thought he deserved. She still made a point of letting him know she thought he was the only one to blame for what she was going through. As far as Orlando was concerned, it had killed her to act the way she had, but since he was so disgusted by her and her actions, then she wasn't going to impose any further. Physical contact was unavoidable most of the times when training, but Zowie had been determined not to be around him any longer than strictly necessary, for he obviously didn't want it.

Had she finally seen the truth in Orlando's words, the wrong in her own actions? Zowie wasn't sure. What she did know, however, was that the only thing that scared her more than admitting all her secrets to her mum, was losing Orlando. She had already gone through that once and remembered it enough not to want to experience it again.

Difference was that, back then, Zowie hadn't been able to do anything else but stand in Wellington's airport and watch him walk out of her life. If he left now, if he decided he wanted to have absolutely nothing to do with her and willingly ended their relationship, then Zowie's life would be worthless. She had quit drugs because of herself, yes, but ever since Orlando had reappeared in her life, he had been the true inspiration behind her improvement. Geoff had done a lot, but what Orlando inspired in her, the lengths she would go to for his love, his attention and his company, Geoff could never match. That was why Zowie was willing to say yes to anything Orlando asked of her if that granted he would stay by her side.

“Look, Orlando... I-” Zowie struggled with the words as they knotted in her throat, as if her heart refused to speak them out loud knowing they weren't entirely true and honest. “I've been thinking about, well.. about what you said the other day. About me having these... issues.”

Orlando sighed softly. He returned her look, but his stance didn't relax one bit.

“We all have issues.” He said evenly. “Difference is how we deal with them. Sometimes it seems you don't deal with them at all.”

Zowie winced visibly. It didn't matter how he phrased it, the words hurt every single time. Just when she had begun nursing thoughts of him grovelling for forgiveness like he had done once before, Orlando showed her that, this time, he meant every word he had said. She had imagined that as soon as she showed signs of wanting to make peace he would fall for them straight away, but obviously, Zowie was going to need to work harder than that. Much harder, in fact.

“It's not easy for me, Orlando, but I'm trying. I've been keeping things to myself for so long, and it's a habit I have a hard time giving up.” She said, hoping her voice expressed every bit of the humility she wanted to project. If that worked, then she could always take care of the details later, once she and Orlando had made amends. “I do want to get better, I swear! I'm trying, but I can't do it alone. I'm trying to open up to people and I've succeeded a couple of times, but when things are thrown on my lap this way, all I want to do is run away and hide until everything disappears.” And God knew she wasn't lying. Every day that passed with Orlando firm in his conviction, was another day Zowie longed to vanish in the air with that same vehemence. She could have the entire world mad at her, but Orlando? That was more than she could handle.

Orlando sighed. He couldn't say how much of what Zowie said was actually true and how much of it was her manipulation skills taking the centre stage, but his own guilt emerged, tinting his judgement. Otherwise, he might have been able to see the truth behind Zowie's actions: that she would do or say anything to have him back, even if that meant promising doing something she never planned to do.

As if reading his hesitant thoughts, Zowie hurried to add.

“I'll talk to my mum, I promise! I'll tell her everything if that's what you and Geoff want, but I need time. Please, Orlando.”

“You don't have to talk to your mum or your family because _we_ want to or because _we_ asked you to.” Orlando pointed out, and when he relaxed enough to lean his shoulder against the wall, Zowie's heart leapt in her chest. “You have to do it because it's good for _you_. You went through a lot on your own and God knows you're still going through even more without any support other than Geoff's and my own and that can't be good.”

Zowie nodded understandingly. It was so hard, _so_ hard to keep herself from jumping up and down in her spot with joy.

“I will, Orlando. I swear. I know I can't deal with this whole thing on my own, but once I talk to my mum and tell her everything that's been going on, everything will be alright. And then, once we're away I'll be so busy I won't even have the time to think about anything else but how to make you look good.” She added in a half-hearted joke, not sure her effort would be appreciated. When Orlando sketched the tiniest smile, relief washed over her.

“Just promise me that you _will_ talk to your mum, Zowie. Honestly.” He asked, his brown eyes boring into hers in a way that almost made her fidget in her spot, making her feel like he could read her intentions in her gaze. “I just... I just don't want any more surprises like the last one, okay?”

Zowie nodded eagerly.

“I will, Orlando. I swear.” She said, raising her right hand to further emphasise her point. “Soon.”

“How soon?”

Now _that_ was something Zowie hadn't expected, but that, in her joy, she was quick to dodge.

“Before we fly to Spain?” She dared, hoping not to be heading herself blindly into a dead-end street with her promise.

Orlando nodded in response.

“Don't mislead me, Zowie. Please. I want you to be happy and I want you to get better, but just don't push me away like this again.”

At those words, at the open and obvious plea in them, Zowie couldn't say anything. She wanted to promise Orlando that she would be true to her word, but deep inside, she hoped that once in Spain things would be so hectic for him, her mum would be the last thing on his mind; if that was what it took to keep him beside her, then she would take it. Smiling, Zowie took his hand, unsure he wanted more than that. When he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, only then did she allow herself a sigh of relief. He was back, and that was all that mattered.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21.**

 

“Okay. I know I've said this before and that it doesn't change, but _that_... is absolutely insane!”

Orlando didn't answer, and before Zowie could add anything else, she had to quickly step aside to avoid being squished under him as he collapsed on his hotel bed. Not that she would have minded much, Zowie mused; there had to be worse things out there than finding herself trapped under Orlando's weight on a big, comfy bed. Still, she shook her head. The man was exhausted and what had just happened minutes ago did nothing to lessen the heavy weight that Orlando felt rested solely on his shoulders.

The two weeks they had spent in Spain had been hectic, busy, and demanding for everyone, but for Orlando, they had been a test he sometimes had a hard time coping with. He could handle the acting and everything that came with it; after all, that was exactly what he had chosen to do with his life. But there was an added pressure to making _Kingdom of Heaven_ that hadn't been there for _Lord of the Rings_ or some of the other movies he had made before: in none of them Orlando had had the leading role. He had played lead before in a small English movie, but that was nothing when compared to a big budget production directed by Ridley Scott and produced by a major studio. Everything seemed to rest on Orlando's shoulders. While he handled it with a smile, Zowie knew him well enough to notice the slight wrinkles of tension in the corners of his eyes, the concerned frown that creased his face, or the dark clouds that crossed his eyes whenever things got too much for him.

But there was another side to it. It had been following him for quite some time and that no matter how hard he tried to adjust to, he simply couldn't: the fans that followed him everywhere.

“Is it just me, or is it getting worse every damn day?”

With those words, Orlando finally let himself fall on his bed so hard, the mattress bounced under his weight. His face, partially buried in the pillow, was only half visible to her. With a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, Zowie sat down beside him, looking down at him with a smile she hoped hid her concern. She was pleased he was recognised and had so many fans, but she couldn't help but worry at how he was taking it all.

“Some days are pretty bad, yes.”

“Today was one of them, wasn't it?”

Zowie hesitated before answering as truthfully as she could without making it worse for him. The horde they had just gone through when they entered the hotel was probably the worst since they arrived.

“Well... yes. The good thing, though, is that I'm sure I saw some familiar faces there. I mean, I'm sure I've seen some of those girls here before.”

“Nice. That's very comforting. One stalker is bad enough, but a bunch of them?”

Zowie grinned at his overly dramatic tone.

“Relax. You should only start worrying the moment you find one of them under your bed or hidden in your closet. In the meantime... Orlando, what are you-?”

Zowie's words trailed off as she, dumbfounded, stared as Orlando, head hanging over the edge of the mattress, investigated under the bed. Nodding sharply, he then assumed his previous position, brushing his now straight hair off of his face.

“You got me thinking when you mentioned having someone under my bed.” He said. “Call me paranoid, but I'd rather check than get an ugly surprise.”

Letting out an exasperated sigh, Zowie shook her head.

“Want me to check the closet? The shower? The balcony, just in case?”

Orlando eyed his room's balcony with a thoughtful expression.

“That wouldn't be such a bad idea...”

“You're right.” Zowie interrupted him. “You're being paranoid.”

Shrugging, Orlando patted the empty space beside him, an invitation Zowie couldn't refuse; laying on her side, she faced him as she tucked a hand under her head. That was exactly how she could spend every day of her life, Zowie realised: locked up in a hotel room with Orlando, away from the rest of the world. Did he have any idea how good that was for her? His support made possible that, even amidst the craziness that filming a major Hollywood movie could be, Zowie got better and better with every passing day. With an ocean between her and her tumultuous past, she felt the northern city of Huesca was a place she could walk around on her own and _enjoy_ , unlike Los Angeles. Here, she could do something as simple as going to the nearest supermarket without scurrying around and looking over her shoulder with every step she took.

The closest to any sort of harassment Zowie had come across where the questions she got from some of the regular fans camped outside the hotel, who asked anyone involved in the movie the most diverse questions about Orlando. They were usually very nice and mostly wanted her or whoever else they could get to give their letters and presents to Orlando, so Zowie usually ended up with her arms full every time.

“Tired?” She asked. Orlando nodded softly, and when a shadow crossed his eyes, she felt prompted to question him further. Funny how she never refused to listen to other people's problems but had a hard time sharing her own. “Want to talk about it?”

Orlando shrugged.

“Some times I miss the way things were in New Zealand, you know? Everyone knew we were making a movie there, but it was... different. There were so many of us to share the load it made it all easier to deal with.”

“And now it's just you.” It wasn't a question; Zowie could read Orlando's feelings all over his face.

“Pretty much, yes.” He shifted, laying on his back. Propping herself up on her elbow, Zowie inched forward until he couldn't avoid her gaze any longer. “I know, I know... just humour me.”

Zowie shrugged and then turned until she was lying on her stomach.

“You know what I think about it.”

And he did, for she had said it repeatedly. That he could do it, that he was enough of an actor to pull this off and that even with his rather short career, the director hadn't made a mistake when casting him. Zowie could have started telling him all those things all over again, but then realised that wasn't what he wanted.

Orlando sighed, secretly grateful Zowie had got his silent message. He knew he could talk to her and that she would understand, but his insecurities ran deep when it came to his job. Zowie was quick to reassure him every time and he didn't doubt she believed every single word she said. But in that instant, he preferred to lay there with her in silence and relax than talk about the things that worried him.

When he turned his head sideways, Orlando wasn't surprised to find Zowie staring at him. She seemed serene and relaxed, and the part of him that had seen her at her worst sighed with relief.

Spain had suited her. She looked better, relaxed, and even though they worked long, insane hours, Zowie seemed more rested than any other time back in Los Angeles. He imagined than being away from the shadow of her ex-boyfriend had a lot to do with it. He also thought that having something to do, something that kept her busy almost all the time also worked its magic on her, leaving her no time to think of anything else but the here and now. Consequently, the Zowie that now rested beside him was the closest to the Zowie he had first met in Wellington that he had seen in weeks.

There were some differences, of course. Or was it that those things had always been there and he had never noticed them? For example, her eyes. They were the same blue holding the same mischievous spark in them, but they also seemed deeper, as if there was a whole other side to Zowie that Orlando had never bothered to explore before. Her hair was just as long, if not longer, than before, and he found himself idly playing with a lock of her dark blonde hair, curling it in his fingers to test its softness.

The dark years were gone. Zowie had put on all the weight she had lost during that period, Orlando would have needed to be blind in order to miss the appreciative or plain leering looks in some of the male crew members' faces when she walked past. The fingers that played with her hair tightened, if only imperceptibly, at the thought. How many nights had Orlando spent shooing guys away from her in Wellington? He doubted he had ever laid eyes on a woman the way those guys had looked at Zowie back then. And she had been so unaware of it all... just like she did now. There was a difference, though; back in the day, Zowie hadn't minded one bit of all the attention she got, had even worked hard to earn it. Now, however, Orlando could see that it was the last thing in her mind. It's not that she didn't put an effort every morning, but for a girl who had basked in the attention she got wherever she went, this new Zowie was its complete opposite.

She looked beautiful, Orlando mused, simply because she _was_ beautiful. Years had passed and she had subjected her body to many excesses, but that part of her hadn't changed at all. And now, healthy as she was, her beauty and her attractive showed in a way not even Orlando himself could ignore.

It was in moments like that, when Orlando noticed the curves, the slopes and the way certain garments clung to her when she moved, that his interest and admiration drowned the friendship that bonded them. He always knew Zowie was attractive to him, even way back in the beginning then when his big mouth could have easily got him in some serious problems with her dad. But looking back in time, Orlando realised that whatever it was that attracted him and puzzled him so much now hadn't been there back then. She had always been a very pretty girl that exuded youthfulness; now she had grown up, and that added to her attractive. Zowie had matured both mentally and physically. Orlando would be an absolute liar if he said that he too, like his co-workers, hadn't admired Zowie more than once in the past weeks.

He knew exactly what those men were thinking when they laid eyes on her for, no matter how much he scolded himself for it, he too had found himself thinking the same thing many times before.

Now he glanced at her once again, finding Zowie staring at him with that calmed, relaxed stance that she had lately and that belied the turmoil she had gone through mere weeks ago. He didn't know much about those dark years and God knew it was easier putting Zowie through some sort of torture than getting her to talk about it. But amongst the questions he had about those moments, one became prominent, and he couldn't stop it as it tumbled out of his lips.

“Can I ask you something, Zow?”

With her eyes fixed on him, she nodded as she made herself more comfortable on her stomach, her head resting on her folded hands.

“Sure.”

Orlando then took a deep breath.

“Why did you have those pictures taken?”

Puzzled, Zowie raised her head, a frown darkening her features.

“Pictures? What pictures are you talking about?”

Orlando shifted uncomfortably. While a voice inside him screamed at him to stop and come up with some feeble lie, another one urged him to keep going, and he obeyed the latter.

“The ones you gave me right before I left New Zealand.”

It took Zowie some seconds to understand exactly what Orlando was talking about. When she did, however, the blush that slowly but surely crept up her neck and cheeks couldn't have been ignored.

“I suppose you're not talking about the PG rated ones I added to your scrapbook.”

Orlando shook his head and Zowie risked a quick glance in his direction. He didn't look judgemental, but that still failed to put her at ease.

“Not really.”

It had seemed so perfect at the time! Desperate for love, affection and understanding, wanting to cling to the one person that seemed safe in a world where everything else fell to pieces around her, Zowie had imagined those pictures would be the hint Orlando needed to realise how much he really loved her. She had only briefly stopped to consider the possible outcomes, but none of them had included one where Orlando didn't throw himself in her arms claiming undying love for her. Even if he just seemed genuinely curious now, Zowie dreaded the idea of having to discuss that with him.

Sighing, she finally answered.

“There's not much I can say in my defence, right? It just seemed so... _right_ at the time.” Zowie wondered out loud, more to herself than in Orlando's benefit. “I know what you're thinking. It was crazy and I know it, but the fact that this guy considered me pretty enough to model for him was something I needed at the time. I don't think adding them to your scrapbook was a good idea either, but it wasn't one of my best moments, as you can imagine.”

The tone in her voice sent a pang of pain to Orlando's heart. He had never meant to make her feel ashamed of her past actions; he had merely wanted to know why he had opened that scrapbook in the plane, eager to leave the bitter taste of their goodbye behind, only to find himself experiencing the shock of his life at seeing Zowie in varying states of nakedness staring back at him. He hadn't seen those pictures in a long, long time, but the memory of those images would be forever engraved in his mind. As clearly as if he had just put them away, Orlando could conjure the picture of Zowie's nakedness barely concealed by her hair and the skimpiest piece of underwear he had ever seen. His shock had been enormous, but the intrigue, the questions that had plagued his mind, had been just as powerful. Even now, as Zowie blushed with embarrassment and he tried to make sense of things that had happened long ago, that same intrigue still rose to life inside him.

“Well, it _was_ shocking, as you can imagine.” He finally pointed out and then he rushed to add when Zowie frowned. “It's not that they weren't nice. I mean, you _are_ beautiful and the pictures were great, but I couldn't help but think of the dangers you might have put yourself through to do it and the reasons why.”

Zowie sighed, her head throbbing with the beginnings of a headache. She wasn't good at this past-catching-up-with-you thing, and no matter how many times she had to admit doing something extremely stupid or even tried to understand it herself, it never got any easier.

“I needed to feel wanted, Orlando. This guy told me how beautiful he thought I was, how much he wanted me to model for him and I starved for that kind of validation back then.”

“But you had always had that, Zow! Have you forgotten all the guys Elijah and I used to scare away when we went clubbing together?”

Orlando seemed so genuinely lost, it broke Zowie's heart to lie and not tell him that no matter how many guys could want her, the only one that had ever mattered and that still did, laid next to her absolutely clueless of the love she had always felt for him.

“Maybe I did. But drugs aren't the best of advisers, you know?”

Even if Zowie tried to discard her admission with a shrug, Orlando wouldn't be fooled. It still bothered him that Zowie only offered bits and pieces here and there, but he had to admit that recovering from an addiction, and a long one at that, couldn't be easy. Especially when doing it all on her own. Nonetheless, there was a question that still needed an answer.

“Why did you give them to me, Zowie?”

At that, Zowie lowered her head. She would have given everything to be able to walk away and never, ever have to answer that question, but she was trapped in a trap of her own doing. Eager as she had been to spend some time with Orlando, she had willingly followed him into his room. If she tried to walk away now, if she tried to avoid his question, it would make everything worse.

“I didn't want you to forget about me.”

It pained Zowie to admit that lying, hiding the truth, and keeping parts of her past in the dark, had become a second nature to her. But if she wanted to come out of this with any dignity left, then she would have to do it for a little longer, for admitting to Orlando that she had been so desperate for his love that she had posed half naked just for him would do her no favours.

Turning on his side, Orlando fixed his eyes on hers, serious and concerned.

“I meant what I said that day in the airport, Zowie... I could never forget you, no matter what. I know I have no excuses for being such a lousy friend and never keeping in touch and consequently missing everything that you went through.” His voice sounded pained, his eyes darkened by a shadow to match. “But you were never too far from my mind. When I went to New Zealand for the additional pick-up shots and no one could tell me where you were, I was worried... and sad.” He posed a warm, reassuring hand on her cheek and Zowie shyly pressed into it, her skin tingling under his touch. “No matter how long we spend apart, I'll never be able to forget you, Zowie. Ever. You're far too important for me to do that.”

Zowie wanted to talk, but nothing but a shaky sigh came out. Orlando's words had moved her to the core, leaving her open and bare for him to destroy her if he pleased. The fact that this man had so much power over her terrified her, but what scared Zowie the most was that, because of that power, she would never be able to walk away if he wanted to tear her to pieces, still hoping for the day when he would realise how much he loved her and that he had always had.

If Orlando noticed the sheer fear and confusion that coursed her, he didn't mention it. Instead, he posed a light kiss on her cheek before offering her a smile.

“Have you talked to your mum?” He asked, wanting to change the topic. “How is she doing?”

If Orlando thought he was bringing the conversation to a lighter, less controversial topic, he couldn't have been any more wrong. Zowie's first instinct was to tense every muscle in her body to prepare herself for what was to come, but she stopped herself in the last possible second, because she knew exactly what Orlando wanted to know.

It wasn't her mum's well-being what interested him; it was her finally telling Noemie all those things she had decided to keep to herself in the past and that Orland had given her an ultimatum about. He had been very understanding about her needing time, and although Zowie had had absolutely no intention to actually keep true to her word, she would have promised anything if that guaranteed Orlando was by her side again.

“She's fine.” Zowie finally answered, hoping her eyes didn't give her away as she fixed them on Orlando's. “She misses me and wants to see me, so I'm really considering flying to New Zealand once we're done here. If Jewell wasn't to go back to school in a couple of weeks, I'm sure she would be here already.”

Orlando nodded understandingly. When his eyes, however, left hers for the briefest of instants, Zowie knew what was coming.

“Does she know?”

Zowie didn't need to ask what he was talking about. Taking a deep breath to still her thundering heart, she spoke with a soft voice.

“She does.”

“And?”

“She was... shocked, as you can imagine.” Zowie said, trying her earnest to keep her voice even with the right amount of sadness and regret. In the meantime, her fear of being discovered in her lies almost chocked her. “She cried – a lot, obviously. I'm not sure she honestly forgave me for hiding all those things from her, for keeping her in the dark about so many things for so long, but she understands. Or she claims to, anyway.”

Only when Zowie lowered her head did she notice the trembling in her hands; even thought tightly clasped on the pillow, they shook with the anticipation that filled her body.

It _had_ to work. It _had_ to come out the right way. Zowie had rehearsed that answer a million times before, always trying to come up with the most diverse questions Orlando could ask when the time came. She had wanted to be as ready as she possibly could to face it, and now hoped all her preparation had been worth it.

Trying to erase the wary, almost scared look she was sure was in her eyes, Zowie met his. In that moment, it didn't matter that she had yet to tell her mum about her panic attacks or that her idea of going to New Zealand was still a very vague one; all that mattered was not to lose what she and Orlando shared in that very same moment: the closeness and friendship they had achieved in their time back together. If she had to lie to preserve that, then she would. It didn't make her happy, but there was always a price to pay for everything. She knew that better than anyone.

“I would have liked to be there. Or at least to have known after you told her, so I could be there for you.”

Tense and prepared for the worst as she had been, it took Zowie a moment to register Orlando's words. Still silent, her blue eyes stared into his, looking for any trace, any sign that he might not really believe what she was saying.

“I know. I would have loved for you to be there, but...” Zowie hesitated, and she surprised herself realising her hesitation wasn't a pretence. “I didn't want to bother you. I didn't want to be a bigger pain than I already am. You have better things to think of than how I patch things up with my mum and besides, it's going well, so there's no need to worry about that either.” And that was true, actually. Things between Zowie and her mum were going much better than she had ever dared to hope.

“Still, I would have liked to be there. I mean it.”

She knew what Orlando meant, and while that filled her with the strongest wave of love she had ever felt, it also drowned her in guilt. Orlando had made it very clear plenty of times that he was there to help her though her recovery process, but the web of lies Zowie had woven around her didn't allow her to give him the space he wanted; if he discovered that she had lied to him to keep him by her side, then whatever she had achieved would crumble like a sand castle in a storm.

“I know. I'm sorry.” She didn't want to add anything else; if she did, Zowie had the feeling she would ruin everything.

It wasn't necessary, though. She would probably never know whether she was that good of an actress or if Orlando purposefully let her go, but when he didn't push her any further, when the questions that came next were far less compromising and controversial, Zowie allowed herself an inner sigh of relief. When she finally announced she was heading to her room so she could shower, Orlando announced his plans of doing the same thing. A smile still graced her lips as she opened the door, shamelessly rejoicing on the mental picture of Orlando standing in the steam of the shower, when the sight of a girl right in front of her stopped Zowie dead on her tracks.

Her first thought was clear. A fan. Whoever she was, she was definitely smart and good at this, for no matter how hard they tried, no girl had made it as far as Orlando's room. According to security they had tried every possible way, failing every time. Now, however, it seemed the security staff's perfect record had a big, black, ugly spot in it.

Steeling herself, not only Zowie's body stiffened as if waiting for an attack, it also readied itself to slam the door closed at the first sight of attempted intrusion. She usually didn't mind the fans, but this was taking things a little bit too far for her liking. In that instant, Zowie didn't feel half as possessive of Orlando as she felt protective.

“Who are you?”

Well, that was _not_ the way someone acted when trying to sneak into an stranger's room, if there was ever such a thing as an etiquette for this kind of situation. Zowie's face darkened with a frown, and she was glad Orlando had disappeared into the bathroom.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Gone all pretence of civility, Zowie took advantage of the couple of inches she had on the blonde, thin girl standing before her and shot back. “How did you get pass security? Any new tricks you'll be sharing with the other girls downstairs?”

The blonde girl's blue eyes widened at the tone and the accusation in Zowie's voice, and the latter gave her a quick, yet thorough look. She had to be around her age, but she looked what? Fourteen, fifteen? The big, black peacoat she was wearing didn't hide her thinness; if anything, it accentuated it. Her pale blonde hair was pulled up in a messy bun and there was such a defiant expression in her sharp-angled face that Zowie could have smelled the animosity from a mile away.

“I didn't have to _get_ pass security. And I have no tricks to share with those idiots out there.” The girl spat viciously before crossing her arms over her chest and assuming a rebellious stance. “I want to see my boyfriend.”

Zowie rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Well, whoever that unlucky bastard is, you surely won't find him here.” She said and began to close the door. “So you better get out of here before-”

Her words died in her throat when the door was stopped in its path. Surprised and more than a little angry, Zowie gave the blonde girl a look that could have easily killed her.

“I mean Orlando.”

Zowie blinked in confusion.

“What are you talking about?”

The pleased, smug look on the other girl's face should have warned her, but Zowie wasn't quick enough to react.

“I mean Orlando. Orlando is my boyfriend.”


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22.**

 

By the time Zowie was ready to leave her room in the morning, the strongest sense of déjà-vu loomed over her. And it wasn't a nice feeling.

She was checking herself in the mirror of the bathroom when she heard Geoff calling out for her, reminding her that they had to get going or they would be late and Zowie sighed, feeling reluctant. She had already gone through this once and although back then she had known exactly what to do, she didn't feel so certain this time.

Why hadn't Orlando told her? In the month they had spent together, never, not even once had he hinted having a girlfriend. Why keep such thing a secret from her? Why wait until Zowie found out about it this way, and to make even things even worse, have both girls clashing like this?

Beth Kessler, that was her name. Zowie didn't know much about her, for she had obviously _not_ lingered after having that acid coated bomb dropped on her, but she didn't want to either. She had refused to believe Beth's words at first, wanting to stick to her belief that the girl before her was nothing but a crazed fan who believed her illusions, but a chill pooled in the pit of her stomach when Orlando came out of the bathroom, curious about the commotion outside. The instant his brown eyes widened upon settling on Beth and then sought Zowie's own gaze, she knew. The moment that sunk in, Zowie hadn't been able to spend another second in the same room with her. Or Orlando.

He tried going after her, of course, but Zowie had vague recollections – for the blood pumping in her ears had deafened her to everything else – of a stern female voice demanding for answers that had successfully stopped all of Orlando's attempts. That, above all, hurt like hell. No matter what, Orlando had made a choice; he had chosen Beth over her, and that was a bitter pill Zowie had a hard time swallowing.

What was it about Beth that was so interesting, so appealing, so attractive to Orlando? What did she have that Zowie herself didn't? Staring at herself in the mirror, Zowie conjured an image of the other girl in her mind; not a hard thing to do, for even if they had only spent a few tense minutes together, Zowie was sure Beth's face would be forever engraved in her memory.

She wouldn't have been surprised had it been a top model standing before her. Well, to be honest, it would have been the most unpleasant surprise nonetheless, but in some way, it was one her brain could have understood. Orlando was attractive, successful, it would have been almost natural to see him with a stunning woman in his arms. Beth, however, seemed so common, so normal, so incredibly unspectacular to her eyes that Zowie knew she could spend days and days trying to understand what he saw in her, and she would never know. God knew she had spent the night wrecking her brain thinking about it, and nothing had come out of trying to understand Orlando's girlfriend.

Orlando's girlfriend. The words almost chocked Zowie just by thinking about them. Was it Beth's thin, sharp face what had attracted him in the first place? Or was it her body, one Zowie hadn't been able to see but that she imagined wasn't much fuller than her face? Her sharp blue eyes and her pale blonde hair only added to the effect, or lack thereof. Beth wasn't pretty, and Zowie couldn't think of one man who would consider her attractive.

With the exception of Orlando, of course.

Zowie stared at her reflection one more time. It had been a long time since she had worn something as flattering as her Leavers' Ball dress, but still in dark green sweatpants and a black sweatshirt, Zowie couldn't ignore the big difference between her and Beth. What would Orlando think when he saw them together? He couldn't possibly ignore Zowie's taller and now fuller figure, just like he couldn't miss the more harmonious features that graced her face; even her squarish jawline, which suited her stubborn side, added a touch of personality when compared to Beth's sharp angles. Even her hair, long and uncared for as it was, was more attractive than the other girl's pale locks.

And still, Orlando had preferred Beth over her. Fragile or not, dangerously thin or not, there was something about Beth that Orlando found attractive enough to make her his girlfriend, something that stepped all over what little fragments remained of Zowie's already frail confidence. He _liked_ that. He liked a girl that thin, that watery, that unattractive, and it didn't matter how much Zowie improved health-wise, how much time they spent together, how much she shared with him, he still didn't find her attractive enough. Years had passed, each had gone through many, many things and still, Orlando's feelings for her hadn't changed at all. And that killed Zowie inside.

It was like Wellington all over again, she mused, when the sense of déjà-vu became too much to ignore. That Sunday after her football final, Orlando had already demonstrated a preference for bland blondes, and although Zowie had been so mad and disappointed, she had forgiven him nonetheless, but now determination steeled her as Geoff once again called for her from their room. Once, long ago, Zowie had forgiven Orlando after a hug and a promise, but it would be very different this time. He was far too important for her to discard so easily and she would be damned before she lost him again, but she wasn't going to make things easy for him. Lying, by omission or not, was something she wasn't going to accept.

Weeks ago, Zowie had had to lie to win Orlando back for hiding something she couldn't possibly control, but he didn't have that excuse. She wasn't telling her mum everything simply because she didn't want to worry her, but Orlando? Did he have a reason to explain his _omission_? He had made her go through hell for days, had made her feel horrible about herself, even though that might not have been his initial intention. But now the tables had turned, and Zowie knew what she had to do. Now it was _his_ turn to grovel, and she would make damn sure he did it well.

When Zowie finally left the bathroom, she found Geoff sitting down on her bed, a book in hand.

“Finally giving it a read?”

Zowie rolled her eyes. Geoff had given her that Sydney Sheldon novel back on their flight from Los Angeles to Madrid, when Zowie had been so anxious she hadn't been able to stop moving around. When the idea of a fourteen hour-long flight with her by her side obviously became too much for him, Geoff had thrust a book on her lap with an annoyed huff.

“Here. Read this.” He had said. Zowie, surprised, had alternatively eyed him and the book on her lap.

“Sydney Sheldon?” Zowie had asked, a hint of aggravation in her voice. “Geoff, who do you take me for?”

“Better this than have you fidgeting around the entire flight.”

Zowie had tried her best to read it, but just like many of the books she had read at school, the obligation managed to kill whatever pleasure it could have brought her. There was only one reason why she kept it near her, and that was because, at one point of the flight, Geoff had given her Elijah's number, which she had scribbled it on the first, blank page of the book; the figures written there were the only reason why she hadn't tossed it away already.

“Last night.” She finally answered as she slipped her jacket on. “I couldn't sleep, but not even that horrid book did the trick.”

And that was true. Zowie had been brewing with such a mix of anger, sadness and desperation, that she had twisted and turned in bed for long hours. The book had been her last resort, but after reading the first page at least five times without understanding a single word, she had left it on her bedside table, where Geoff deposited it now.

Grinning, he shook his head and then stood up.

“Ready to go?”

Zowie nodded. Her things were ready and although deep inside she didn't feel quite as prepared to face the day as she appeared to, she clung to the light of determination burning inside her. She would make it work, she promised herself, and in the meantime, she would teach Orlando a lesson he would never forget.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23.**

 

The first thing Zowie noticed upon arriving on set at the medieval castle of Loarre, was that Beth wasn't around. Not that she had been looking, of course; but when she cast a discreet look around and her blue eyes failed to meet the girl, at least at first sight, she felt relieved. Even if she showed up later, not having to see her bony face first thing in the morning was definitely a plus.

It was a pity to have such a load on her shoulders, for her surroundings were far too beautiful to be spoiled with thoughts like that. Located in the mountains, Loarre was surrounded by forests of pine trees and valleys of a lighter green dotted with jagged rocks. The sky was blue above her, the sun was beginning to show on the horizon, and not even the brisk air that ran through the mountains could diminish the location's beauty.

Shielding her eyes against the rising sun, Zowie took a good look at the castle, like she did every morning. Even though parts of it were in ruins, those that still remained were very well preserved, and she longed for another tour like the one they had been given on their first day. Below, right at the castle’s feet, lay a medieval village, where Zowie’s gaze lingered. She had been a first-hand witness to the massiveness of a movie production when in New Zealand, but when looking around at the houses built to resemble those in the 12th century, it still amazed her. The attention to detail paid to elements that might only end up on screen for a few seconds, if anything at all, was astounding. Nevertheless, nothing in the breath-taking view before her could erase the troubling thoughts in her mind, and a deep, long sigh escaped her lips.

Lost in her thoughts, Zowie never noticed the expression on Geoff’s face as he studied her. Something was going on, that much he knew; and this silent Zowie wasn’t someone he knew how to deal with. With a slight shake of his head, he headed towards her, questions bouncing in his head. Why did she keep on doing that? Why did Zowie keep locking him out when it was obvious she needed his support? It was hard not to let frustration and powerlessness take over him as he approached her.

The minute he stood beside her, however, it was almost as if Zowie sensed what was in his mind, for she never gave him the chance to voice his concerns. Instead, she busied Geoff with a quick and never-ending monologue about the actors, their training and the fights they had been choreographing and that would take place in Morocco. She succeeded in her task for a while, and Geoff was so engrossed in their conversation that the offer Zowie made almost went unnoticed at first.

Would Geoff mind if she spent the day working with someone else? It wasn’t that she didn't want to spend the day with him. She just wanted to try something different for a while.

It was then without her voicing it, that Geoff knew whatever was troubling her, it had to do with Orlando. Why else would Zowie want to spend the day away from him?  Even when they were in Los Angeles and Orlando stopped talking to her in the hope she would see reason, Zowie remained. Tense and silent, of course, but around nonetheless, if only out of sheer stubbornness and the obvious affection she felt for the young actor.

“I'm not sure.” Geoff finally said. “I kind of need you around.”

Under his attentive gaze, Zowie lowered the sword she had been easily swinging to look at him with a carefully staged non-committal look.

“I was thinking that maybe Brian could also benefit from this change. I mean, he's been around far longer than I have and as much as it pains me to admit it, well... the guy _is_ better than me. He's doing a great job with the other actors, and perhaps you could give him a chance here.”

Geoff turned sideways to face her, feet slightly apart, hands tucked in the pockets of his warm jacket. He had to admit that Zowie was right in one aspect. Hired as an assistant, Brian had lots of experience and was great at teaching, so much that his students now progressed in giant leaps. On the other hand, however, that sudden spurt of selflessness coming from Zowie was suspicious, and Geoff was determined to get to the bottom of it.

“He could do a great job with Orlando, but so could you.” He said, studying her attentively. “While Brian might be a really good teacher, what you and Orlando have goes well beyond that, and no amount of teaching talent could ever make up for that.”

When Zowie shifted uncomfortably, Geoff knew he had hit a nerve.

“Yes, but you know how this works.” She insisted. “I spent half the time during _Rings_ wondering whether people thought I was there just because I was daddy's girl, and I don't want anyone to think the same here. If I show them I can do the dirty work, then that might give them a new perception of me.”

At that, Geoff sighed, wondering if he would ever get to know Zowie completely. Finding out this new insecurity of hers was like opening a door to a whole new side of her he had never imagined existed, and that knowledge threw Geoff a little off balance. Here he was, convinced Zowie was solely mad at Orlando when something entirely different was also at play.

“I suppose you can.” He finally conceded, instantly bringing a glow to her eyes. “But _only_ if Brian has nothing else to do, you hear me? I'm not altering the whole movie schedule just because you feel the need to prove yourself.”

Zowie's enthusiastic nod made Geoff frown, all the time wondering whether his quick concession had been the right thing to do. Yet, before he could even think of something to say, she was out of sight, and he blew out a long, heavy sigh. He wanted to help Zowie and God knew he loved her dearly, but trying to understand her? That was whole other matter.

***

As soon as Orlando arrived on set, the first he did was look around, attentively scanning his surroundings. He knew she was there. She _had_ to be: her schedule wouldn't suddenly change overnight. What he wasn't so sure about, however, was how she would welcome him.

All night had Orlando had berated himself. Asleep and awake, images swirled before his eyes. It didn't take an expert to understand what both his conscious and unconscious minds were trying to tell him: that he had ruined it all. And not just with Zowie, but with Beth as well.

Orlando had never meant to hide Beth from Zowie or the other way around. But, when first seeing the latter so helpless and hurt in Los Angeles, he had instinctively known she needed his undivided support and attention. Problem was, would Beth understand how badly Zowie needed him? Would she be able to share her boyfriend with this girl from his past that had suddenly and unexpectedly returned to his life? Orlando didn't need to think hard for the answers to those questions, for they were a big and rotund _no_.

Lying wasn't something Orlando liked or that made him feel powerful or smart, or more masculine, for that matter; it had just happened before he could even realise, and now he had to deal with the consequences. Even though he hadn't done it intentionally, it was still a mess he had to get out of all on his own, and hopefully without hurting the innocent parties involved. He could handle anger, could handle disappointment no matter how bad it made him feel, but knowing he had hurt someone? The sole prospect stabbed at Orlando's heart like a searing knife.

He waved at some people as he walked by, and while he returned their greetings and shared some words with them, neither his heart nor his mind were in it. He simply wandered around the set, and as he did, he let his mind do some wandering of its own. Useless as it was to punish himself thinking of what ifs, he still couldn't help it. Why had he lied to the girl he had been seeing for the past year? Why hadn't he explained Beth what Zowie was going through, hoping for understanding? If there was nothing wrong with wanting to help a friend in need, why had he kept Zowie’s existence a secret from Beth, then, when both girls were bound to meet sooner or later?

Beth was a nice girl. She did have her moments but so did he, and she didn't deserve any of this. She was an actress, so she understood the long hours, the time away, and the demands, but what she didn’t understand, however, and hadn’t even made the attempt to, was Zowie. Orlando’s friend and her situation weren’t important to her, and seeing the other girl in his room had thrown Beth into a frenzy.

And what about Zowie? She hadn't taken the news very well either, and the blame of that fell solely and heavily upon Orlando's shoulders. She had had him all to herself ever since Los Angeles and now she would have to share him. Not only with someone else, he mused, but with his _girlfriend_ ; someone he had kept a secret, to make matters even worse. Just thinking how he had demanded complete honesty from her mere weeks ago made him with guilt.

The feeling didn’t abandon him as Orlando walked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of that long hair he knew so well, or of those skilled movements he was learning to recognise. When his eyes finally settled on someone, however, it wasn’t the person he was hoping to meet, and given the suspicious look on his face, neither was he the person Orlando wanted to meet in that instant. He squared his shoulders nonetheless, ready to face whatever came next.

“Hi, Geoff.”

If the older man noticed the tension in Orlando's tone and stance, he didn’t point it out, choosing to simply pat his shoulder instead before asking him how prepared he was for the long day of work ahead. Orlando answered as honestly as he could, but even as he did, he braced himself for something. What exactly, he wasn’t entirely sure, but when Geoff finally mentioned it, it still failed to make Orlando at ease.

“Did Zowie talk to you?”

Orlando's shoulders stiffened under his thick jacket, and he thanked God for the obstacle the burly garment represented to Geoff's eyes.

“No, she didn't. I haven't seen her since yesterday.” He answered. Then, shifting in his feet, he asked. “Why?”

Geoff shrugged, but Orlando couldn't say whether the gesture was honest, or if he was faking ignorance.

“It's just that she's been acting, well... weird all morning. She even talked me into letting her swap places with Brian for the day, saying she could use the experience.” The silence that fell after those words was one that filled Orlando with tension, for he knew exactly what was coming next. “I thought maybe you two guys had had a fight or something.”

God, how he hated to be right!

“Why do you say that?” Orlando asked, trying to delay the impossible.

“Because when something like this happens, you’re usually involved one way or another.”

Damn it.

Orlando took a deep breath. He had never had to face William after that initial, stupid comment about Zowie all those years ago, and for that he was grateful. But having to face Geoff and tell him the truth? That seemed even worse, for putting words to his idiocy made it so real he couldn't avoid any longer.

“She was in my room last night.” The fact that Geoff didn’t even raise an eyebrow at his comment spoke volumes of how much he trusted Orlando, a fact that twisted the knife in his heart even more painfully.

“Did you two have a fight?”

“A fight?” Orlando shook his head. “She met Beth.”

The look of sheer puzzlement in Geoff's face would have been funny, had it not been for the situation they were in.

“Beth? Beth who?” Geoff asked, growing more confused by the minute. “And why should that make Zowie act like this?”

Taking a deep breath, Orlando let the words roll out of his mouth.

“Because Beth is my girlfriend.”


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24.**

 

_“Because my love for you_

_Will break my heart in two.”_

**_David Bowie – Let’s Dance_ **

 

Geoff remained quiet for long instants. That silence, however, failed to make Orlando at ease, for in the other man’s face he could read each and every one of his emotions as they surged to life within him, battling for dominance. Shock, disbelief, understanding, Orlando saw them all. But the one that affected him the most, nonetheless, was the anger that finally overpowered everything else.

“You stupid idiot!” Geoff spat venomously, and Orlando's shoulders drooped reflexively, as if ready to protect himself from the other man's wrath. “A girlfriend? Seriously, Orlando? You pushed Zowie to be honest with you while you were hiding _this_ all along?”

Orlando didn’t need any more punishment than the one he was already masochistically subjecting himself to, but he still accepted Geoff’s fury, knowing very well he deserved every bit of it. Feeling suddenly very small and very, very idiotic, Orlando tried his best to explain himself.

“I never intended to hurt her, Geoff... I swear! I just wasn't sure how she'd react to the news and-”

“How did you think she would react, Orlando?” Geoff shook his head, giving Orlando a look that was both admonishing and disappointed. “Don’t you know Zowie at all by now? Can't you honestly see how everything you say or do has an effect on her? Just think about what happened in LA. You were mad at her, and Zowie was nothing but a shadow of herself which, in her current state, is pretty worrying. She's not the girl she used to be, Orlando… and despite all that she still trusted you enough to let you in her secrets. This is how you repay her?”

Just when Orlando began to think he couldn’t possibly feel any guiltier, Geoff’s words punched him square in the face, impossible to deny. Zowie _had_ trusted him, and what had he done in return? He had been absolutely incapable of returning the favour. Sure, Orlando had been there and had been a shoulder to cry on, but in the end of the day, all that mattered was that he had lied to Zowie. And although there was no good way to find out about a lie, she had still found out about this one the worse possible way.

“I never meant for this to happen, Geoff, I swear. I never meant for her to find out this way, I never-”

“Did you _ever_ mean for Zowie to find out about your girlfriend at all? Or was this part of a sick plan to take advantage of her while keeping your girlfriend waiting in the wings?”

Astonishment filled Orlando at the implications in Geoff’s words, and a hint of anger began to raise its head amongst the shame that plagued him.

“Do you honestly think I could do that to Zowie?” All the aggravation he felt showed in his tight, edgy voice. “Do you remember how she was when I first saw her? She needed me, and telling her back then that there was someone else in my life would have been a disaster. You're not the only one who sees how much Zowie relies on me, Geoff. I couldn't hurt her that way when she needed me the most.”

“But you did anyway! You hurt her, Orlando, and you know why? Because-”

Geoff would never know what it was that made the last words choke up in his throat, knotting there painfully. He meant to exclaim _'because Zowie loves you!'_ on Orlando's face, but something silenced him. The minute a picture of this new, fragile Zowie flashed before his eyes, he realised she didn't need her feelings screamed from the top of the roof for the world to hear. That wasn't his admission to make, Geoff realised. No matter how angry or furious Orlando made him, that wasn't something he could share with him. Not when Zowie hadn't told him anything about it in the first place.

Taking a deep breath to soothe himself, Geoff finally added.

“Because you're special to her. It took her weeks to trust me and it wasn't until she was in a hospital bed that Zowie finally opened up to me. It's different with you, can't you see it? I could have brought anyone to her, any of the people she's befriended over the years, but no one, _no one_ , would have had the same effect on her as you do. You hurt her, Orlando, and now you're going to have to deal with the consequences.”

Orlando sighed, relaxing if only slightly. For a moment, Geoff had looked ready to bite his head off and chew it until nothing remained, but something had stopped him in the last possible minute. That relief, however, didn’t stop him from seeing the reason in the older man’s words. He indeed needed to make himself responsible for his actions, but thinking about it was a lot easier than doing it.

“I know.” He admitted, his shoulders dropping under the weight that burdened him. Looking up at Geoff, he finally asked. “Do you know where I can find her?”

***

The moment young Brian finally walked away with a pleased smile on his face and a proud skip on his step, Zowie thanked God above for that small miracle. Never before had her already thin patience been tested in such dramatic way, and hadn't Zowie known how dangerous a blunt sword could be, she would have gladly hit Brian on the head with one.

But she had held back and boy, had it been hard!

Zowie could deal with Brian's excitement. Hell, she could _understand_ it. The guy was finally getting the chance to assist Geoff, something she was sure he would have done hadn’t she got in the way. Moments before she had felt guilty, thinking she was offering nothing but a sample before taking it away from him, but no more. Right now, such murderous thoughts ran rampant in her mind after what Brian had said that guilt was the last feeling in her heart.

Finding out about Orlando's girlfriend had hurt Zowie beyond belief, but discovering that she was most likely the only person in the entire world that didn't know about her? That was more than a bitter pill to swallow; it felt like a huge, tight knot lodged at her throat that refused to disappear. Not until she accepted that simple truth, something she could see happening any time soon.

It was amazing how a short conversation with Brian had enlightened Zowie in the most absolute and terrible way. Happy as he was, her colleague had shared all that he knew about Orlando’s sentimental status as he readied himself for a day with Geoff.

~*~

_“Have you heard the news? Orlando's girlfriend arrived last night.”_

_Having just announced Brian they were swapping jobs for the day, his statement caught Zowie by surprise, and her bag slipped from her fingers, hitting the floor with a loud thud. Unsure as to which emotion to attend to first, she went through them all: the surprise that made her eyes widen, the anger that put a stern air to her jaw, and the pain that twisted her heart._

_Brian knew? How come this guy knew about Beth when she didn’t? The fact pained her and angered her, rubbing salt on a very fresh wound._

_“Wait… you mean you knew about her?” The words escaped Zowie’s lips before she could stop them. Then, hoping not to come across as ignorant as she truly was, she tried to downplay her shock, leading it in another direction. “I mean, I thought their relationship was, you know... quite private.”_

_She was so playing it by ear! How could Zowie possibly know whether Orlando's and Beth's relationship was private when she hadn't known until last night that such thing even existed? She just hoped that, since she had never heard about it, that might as well be the case. And for once, her assumptions proved to be right._

_“Well, yeah, but you know how Hollywood works. The more secret a person wants to keep something, the more all the journalists and paparazzi want to know about it.”_

_The words and their weight echoed in Zowie’s ears. Was that why Orlando hadn't told her about it? Was he afraid she would let the truth about his relationship slip in front of the wrong kind of people? The sole thought sent a wave of discomfort up and down her body. She had trusted Orlando, why couldn't he do the same?_

_Angry, offended and pained, Zowie asked._

_“Did you know about her?”_

_Brian grinned, as if amused by her question._

_“Well, she might not be as famous as, say... Julia Roberts.” Brian said with a presumptuous smile, as if he enjoyed schooling Zowie in this particular matter. “But Beth Kessler is definitely quite popular on her own, don't you think?”_

_When Zowie answered, bitterness coated her every word._

_“Can't say I follow her career, sorry.”_

_“Neither do I, but my little sister is a fan. She has posters of her all over her room and is delighted with the idea of Beth and Orlando being together. I think they make a nice looking couple.” Brian pointed out, looking at Zowie as if looking for an approval that never came. Shrugging, he added. “I'm man enough to admit that Orlando's an attractive guy and well, Beth is cute on her own too, so...”_

_Zowie had to swallow hard to keep the sudden wave of nausea that hit her at bay. Beth, cute? And the idea of her and Orlando making a nice couple? Revolting. Absolutely revolting._

~*~

Brian had left shortly after that brief exchange, but the seed had been planted and the sadness that lingered fed the anger and the disappointment inside Zowie. Could she be anymore stupid? There she was, friends with Orlando for over four years, and she was obviously the only person in the whole wide world that didn't know he had a girlfriend. The thought humiliated Zowie to her very core.

Everyone knew. Everyone out there, fans, media, people with an access to only a tenth of Orlando’s real life, knew about Beth. But not her. She had been carefully denied of the truth until she had found it spitting angry words at her the previous night.

How could he do that to her? How could Orlando pretend to be so open, true, and honest when he kept a whole other side of his life secret? Zowie felt the hot sting of tears in her eyes and furiously blinked them away. He was a liar. He pushed her to be honest, but what about him? What was Orlando's excuse?

But above all, another question echoed in Zowie's heart as her hand alternatively gripped and released the handle of her training sword. _Why her?_ _Why her and not me?_ Why did everyone find Beth attractive or worth of any sort of admiration while all Zowie seemed to attract was trouble? Was that what had brought Orlando to Beth, that she wasn’t as needy as Zowie was?

Angry, she wiped a solitary, offensive tear that dared to run down her cheek. So she was needy? So she needed Orlando's guidance because her life was such a mess she couldn't work it out on her own? Fine, then. She wouldn't be that anymore. If she was such a burden to Orlando, then she would show him she could do very well without him. For good. Even if that killed her inside.

Of course, holding on to that resolution when a deep, familiar voice called her name was anything but easy. It was the image of Beth spitting furious words at her what sobered her up, fuelling the anger inside her.

“Zowie.”

Taking a deep breath, she gripped the sword's handle one more time before letting it go, carefully settling it down on the table before even thinking of turning around. Then, training her features so they gave nothing away, Zowie finally turned, her cold blue eyes falling on the tall shape of Orlando. There was no stopping the longing that rose inside her as she looked into his serious brown eyes, but that same longing only intensified her feeling of anger. Good looking or not, he had still lied to her, and that was something she couldn’t forget.

Zowie didn't answer. Slipping her hands in the pockets of her jacket, she fixed her eyes on him instead, prompting him to go on.

Orlando didn't waste any time.

“Can we talk?”

“Is there anything we need to talk about?” Zowie counter-attacked, feet slightly apart as she assumed the same stance she took when having a sword in her hands.

Orlando sighed and moved closer to her, and Zowie considered it a personal triumph not stepping away from him as he did.

“I'm really, really sorry.”

Zowie had tried to keep cool. She had tried to keep a straight head on her shoulders and handle this in a mature, dignifying way, but her temper was much too strong to be overpowered by good intentions.

“No, you're not!” Narrowing her eyes, her hands left her pockets and her index finger pointed accusingly at him. “You lied to me, Orlando. You _lied_! You said I could trust you. Hell, you even pushed me into talking to my mum even though you knew how hard that was for me, but you couldn't be honest with me yourself? Is this what you always expected of me, blind obedience?”

Orlando took the blow of each and every one of her angry words, accepting them for what they were: fair punishment.

“It was never my intention to lie to you-” He began to say, but Zowie interrupted him.

“But you did! Why, Orlando? Why did you ask complete honesty from me if you were keeping _this_ a secret?”

“Because you needed me.”

There it was, plain and simple, the confirmation to her worse fears. Good God, she had been right all along! The only reason why Orlando stayed by her side was because he thought her so incapable of dealing with her life on her own, that he had to guide her through it. No wonder why he preferred that annoying blonde over her, she realised. Beth was surely as independent as Zowie wasn't, and that idea alone was enough to reinforce her earlier thoughts

“Well, I no longer do, then.” Zowie said, her voice determined enough to hide the pain inside her. “I can do this. I'm a twenty-one years-old woman and I can deal with my life on my own, no matter how much of a mess it is. And if it's such a burden for you to be near me, then go away. Go with _her_.”

Venom coated her voice at the sole mention of Beth, but Zowie could have never anticipated Orlando’s reaction. She had expected him to feel pained or wounded, not to see his handsome face contorting with anger.

“Don't put Beth in the middle of this, Zowie. She has nothing to do with it.”

Shock hit Zowie like a tidal wave. Orlando was _defending_ Beth? He was protecting his girlfriend instead of making things up with her? It never occurred to Zowie that it was the most natural reaction; it just infuriated her beyond belief.

“But she _is_ in the middle of everything, Orlando! She's the reason why we're having this conversation!”

Orlando shook his head.

“Not her. This is all my fault. I was the one who kept you secret from her and the other way around. She's just as innocent in this thing as you are.”

Zowie gasped. She could handle many things, especially if they came from Orlando, but him putting her and Beth in the same scale? That wasn't one of them.

“Innocent? Did you see her last night? Did you _hear_ the way she treated me?” Zowie exclaimed from the top of her lungs, not caring who could hear them.

“Beth was just shocked-” Orlando began to say before, once again, Zowie interrupted him.

“No! She was annoying and rude and you _let_ her, Orlando! You _let_ her treat me as she pleased without saying anything!” Angry that tears were once again burning in her eyes, Zowie blinked before focusing her gaze on his. “Why her, Orlando? Why?” She asked, when in reality all she wanted to do was scream _'Why her and not me? What does she have that I don't?'_. “Out of the million girls out there that would kill to be with you, why her? You deserve so much better!”

Orlando's eyes narrowed at her words. After a short meditation, his brief answer was simple and unmistakable.

“Because I like her. Because she understands. And because she can act like a grown-up, unlike you.”

Zowie’s mouth gaped in shock, but Orlando didn't regret his words. Rude or not, Beth was still his girlfriend. Zowie, on the other hand, was beginning to show some serious signs of immaturity that annoyed him to no end.

Having regained her speech, Zowie exclaimed.

“That's stupid!”

“So is this argument.”

Stilling all her movements, Zowie stared wide-eyed at Orlando.

“Are you calling me stupid?” That simply went far beyond anything Zowie could have ever imagined.

“No, but I do realise you have a lot of growing up to do if you can't accept the fact that your friends might want to have other people in their lives other than you.”

Her face contorting with fury, Zowie hissed.

“I don't have a problem with that unless said people decide to share their lives with bland, annoying blondes like your girlfriend!” Shooting him a nasty glare, Zowie added. “You always had a thing for those, Orlando. Don't even think for a minute that I've forgotten about it.”

As he stared at Zowie’s fire-spitting blue eyes, Orlando realised of two things. One, that he didn’t need to ask what she referred to; he too remembered that Sunday morning very well. And two, that he didn’t feel like prolonging that argument if Zowie was bent on not seeing reason. He had come to apologise, but she obviously wasn’t going to let it go.

“Beth will stay here for a few weeks.” He finally stated with a stern voice, his dark eyes taking on a dangerous shade. “If you can't act nicely around her, then I'd suggest you stay out of her way. Of _our_ way.”

Zowie's dark frown and furious expression could have killed a weaker spirit, but Orlando’s stormy stare didn’t back down.

“Fine, then. Just make sure you keep _her_ out of my way. In case she feels like going all catty on me again for even daring to speak a word to her boyfriend.”

Without another word, Orlando walked away, leaving Zowie staring at his back with a mix of anger, frustration and grief. It broke her heart to see him like that, it destroyed her inside to think that she was finally losing him over a bland girl who didn't deserve him, but she wasn't going to back down. No matter how hard her heart broke inside her or how hotly tears burnt in her eyes, she would persevere. She would win.

No matter what.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25.**

 

_“You know what's your problem is, Zowie? I'm not sure you honestly want to keep us from worrying. I think you actually like the idea of being miserable.”_

Orlando’s words rang in Zowie’s ears, taunting her as she lied on her bed. It was a scary concept to wrap her head around and, after all, she wasn’t sure she wanted to do such thing. The words had hurt Zowie when Orlando said them, but now? Now they came back with a vengeance.

Did she truly enjoy it? Was the emotional battering something she found pleasure in, that she sought after? Zowie squirmed at the thought, wrinkling the comforter beneath her. Did that mean that all that had happened with Matt was something she had chosen… consciously? Her squirms of discomfort became shivers of apprehension. It couldn’t be. She would never excuse Matt for his violent behaviour, but in her defence, she hadn’t known what she was getting herself into until she had found herself knee deep in it. Besides, it’s not like she would have chosen this path for herself had her life been any different, right? Hadn’t her life been turned upside down by other people’s mistakes, Zowie would have never tried drugs, and would have never got involved with a physically abusive man.

Nevertheless, the fact that Orlando had said those words, that he _believed_ in them, was what concerned her the most. Was that what he truly thought of her? The fact that he might have such a low opinion of her sent tendrils of ice around her heart. Masochistic, stupid, immature… in too many words, that was what he had called her, and it slashed new wounds in her already bleeding heart. Having to witness his interaction with Beth was the cherry on top of the most hideous cake Zowie had ever seen.

It had only been two days, but God helped her, Zowie didn’t think herself capable of putting up with it for much longer. They might not be heavy on the PDA, surely because of the paparazzi that seemed to pop up from nowhere, but the sole sight of them together? It sickened her.

How could she possibly make the effort of _trying_ to stand Beth when looking at her was a painful remainder of all that could have been? Not even the hopes of wanting to make things better with Orlando could force Zowie to look at his girlfriend under a new light. How could she, when everyone around her kept talking about Beth? In the short hours she had been in Spain, the actress had become the hottest topic on set. Her job, her clothes, her looks, how long she and Orlando had been together… the gossip seemed to follow Zowie everywhere, and although she had pointedly ignored them, she hadn’t missed some of the looks she had got. After all, up until Beth’s arrival, Zowie and Orlando had seemed to be attached at the hip, but now, with Beth there, they didn’t even talk to each other. Zowie sighed tiredly and closed her eyes. Surely they thought she had been banished from Orlando’s side now that his girlfriend was around. And boy, were they right!

The irony and the cruelty of all that was happening didn’t go missing to her. Had things been different, had things gone according to the plan she had carefully put in motion four years ago, it should have been Zowie walking arm in arm with Orlando, not Beth. It should have been her who hugged him and kissed him as her heart desired, not that waify blonde with an attitude!

But nothing had gone according to plan, not in Wellington and definitely not here in Spain, and now Zowie was trapped. Having made her own bed, so to speak, she was now forced to watch from the wings and wait until something happened. And something had to happen and change things drastically, for she was sure as hell _not_ going to ask for an apology. She had been mistreated, insulted _and_ lied to. If that didn’t make her worthy of a heartfelt apology, then Zowie was lost.

Feeling the sting of tears, Zowie grabbed the pillow from under her head and covered her face with it, fighting the urge to cry. Why did everything have to be so hard for her? Why the men that were important to her only ended up hurting her? Her dad had pushed her into a path of self-destruction. Matt had taken his own unresolved family issues out on her. As for Orlando, he might not be violent, but he too had his own share of secrets with her. And while her dad’s secret had broken her heart and Matt’s violence had left marks on her that would remain forever, Orlando’s secrecy and lying nearly broke her.

Then, as if all that wasn’t enough, Zowie had to deal with Geoff.

He meant well and she knew it. She knew Geoff wanted her to open up to him, but how could Zowie admit what truly bothered her without humiliating herself even further? Geoff didn’t need to know how much she loved Orlando, or how she had failed to win him over the way she wanted to. She had failed at so many things already, that admitting them all had brought her excruciating pain. What would failing at winning Orlando do to her? A sudden, yet very clear memory of the blessed numbness of the drugs filled her mind and body. A wave of fear followed suit. It had been a long time since Zowie had last felt the urge of hiding behind drugs, and discovering she hadn’t quite overcome that need terrified her.

But how could she not feel that way? Zowie could handle Geoff’s not-so-subtle prodding. She could – with a titanic effort, of course – ignore Beth hanging from Orlando’s arm. But what Zowie couldn’t handle, however, was the way Orlando ignored her. It was a novel feeling to her, and one she struggled to understand. Back in New Zealand, he had been willing to do anything to make things up with her after the football final fiasco, but once in Los Angeles, things had changed drastically. What was so different now? Where was that Orlando that had come grovelling for forgiveness? He was the same man, Zowie mused. He claimed to understand her issues, but as soon as they reared their ugly head, he accused her of the ugliest things. The old Orlando would have never done that.

The idea that Orlando might have grown up and matured briefly crossed Zowie’s mind, but it was soon overpowered by a more selfish urge. Why couldn’t he see what she was going through? Did he think that recovering from the kind of world she came from was easy? A bitter thought extended its cold fingers through Zowie’s heart, infecting it all. Why couldn’t Orlando see his own share of blame in it? Hadn’t he been so careless with her that night so long ago, none of this would have happened. The tendrils of ice grew until they touched her everywhere, and the demons inside Zowie had a feast at her expense. None of this was her fault. She had been pushed into it, Zowie thought bitterly. And Orlando had contributed to it greatly.

It took everything Zowie possessed to shake off the dark clouds of gloom that had suddenly fallen upon her, making her see things in a different way. Yes, Orlando was to blame, but what about her? He had treated her carelessly once, but she had never had the courage to tell him the truth. Zowie sighed, pressing the pillow harder on her face and almost blocking all flow of air. This was a mess, she mused; a huge mess that she seemed unable to escape from, and there was no one she could talk to that could fully understand.

Suddenly, Zowie lightened the pressure on the pillow, her eyes opening for the first time in a long while.

Or was there?

Slowly lowering the pillow, Zowie’s eyes fell on her bedside table. White cover, blue, curly print… the book Geoff had given her weeks ago rested there, beckoning her. She vaguely remembered trying to read it after the Beth debacle and not making any sense out of it, but it was her left hand, moving on its own accord, what occupied her mind now. The solution was there and she knew it, and it wasn’t the storyline she hadn’t even begun to understand.

It was Elijah’s number.

Her hand hovered over the book, uncertain. Should she do it? A quick mental calculation told her it had to be some time around lunch in Los Angeles, the perfect time to catch Lij at home. If he was there in the first place, of course. But perhaps she should wait, she mused. Perhaps things would work themselves out and…

Zowie shook her head. What on Earth was she thinking? She was desperately looking for an excuse that would stop her from picking up the phone, but realising that didn’t stop the tingle of fear and unease that coursed her body. Could she do it? Calling Elijah meant opening up and leaving the safety of her shell behind. But then again, Elijah _knew._ He knew things others didn’t, and had always, always, been a person she could talk to. He had always understood. Would it be the same now, after so long?

There was only one way to find out, Zowie realised. And no one said it had to be easy.

The pillow fell on her lap as she sat up, taking the book in one hand and the phone on the other. The hesitant fingers that traced the numbers written on the first page, turned reluctant as her right hand hovered over the telephone keys. She really wanted to talk to someone who understood and didn’t judge, but actually doing it was as hard as it had always been. It never got better, Zowie realised, and she wondered if it ever would.

There was a ringing on the other end. Once, twice, three times… a wave of guilty relief filled Zowie when the thought that Elijah might not be at home crossed her mind. Not talking to him meant keeping things just as they were, of course, but that didn’t seem too bad when compared to…

“Hello?”

All breath caught in Zowie’s throat at the sound of Elijah’s voice. So many thoughts ran rampant, creating a dizzying whirlpool of memories in her mind, that she could barely grasp at one of them. Tears, laughter, confidences… they had had it all. And they could have them all again, if only Zowie found it in herself to part her lips and speak the words lodged in her throat.

“Hi… Elijah?”

The briefest moment of hesitation filled the line.

“Yes. Who is it?”

Zowie’s fingers itched to hang up, her heart hammering against her ribs. The words, however, tumbled out of her lips on their own accord.

“Zowie.” She mumbled into the line. “Zowie Hart.”

The silence that fell between them brought her heart to a sudden and painful stop. What if Elijah didn’t remember her? What if he didn’t want to talk to her? Fear weighed in her stomach. After all, how many times did people say things like _“call me if you need me”_ without actually meaning them? What if…?

“Zowie?”

There was such disbelief in his voice that Zowie’s heart torn in two. On one hand, she longed to believe that his shock was born out of happiness, but on the other, a deep pessimism filled her entire being. Nothing in her life ever turned out the way she wanted to so, why would that change now?

“I’m sorry.” She said, fear suddenly taking over her. “Sorry I bothered you. I… I better hang up.”

Zowie went as far as separating the receiver from her ear, when Elijah’s sudden exclamation stilled all her movements.

“Zowie, don’t! Wait!”

At first, she thought that, in her desperate need for support, she had just imagined the words. The receiver froze an inch away from her ear, and Zowie felt her breath lodging in her throat, right behind the knot that had taken residence there. Had she heard right? Surely she hadn’t. Why else would Elijah want to be burdened with her issues, then?

“Are you there? Zowie, don’t hang up!”

The tears that had until then burnt in her eyes for hours spilled down her cheeks. Sobs threatened to escape, loud and clear, and Zowie considered it a feat controlling them in the last possible minute. Fear had coated Elijah’s words, she realised; fear that she might hang up and that he wouldn’t be able to reach her again. Having been rejected by the one man she loved above everyone else, knowing someone out there was willing to talk to her touched her deeper that she had ever imagined.

Just like it had four years ago, she realised.

There were hundreds of things she wanted to say. Things to reassure her friend, to pretend she was fine and not lost in turmoil... but only a whispered word escaped her lips.

“Lij…”

Shock filled Elijah, and for a moment, he couldn’t form a coherent thought. Zowie? Confusion spread inside him at the sheer unexpectedness of the moment, before an enormous sense of relief touched his heart at the sound of her voice. Zowie! She was back! She was miles away, of course, but the sole idea of being able to talk to her after all that had happened was so overpowering it made him weak at the knees. They could have very well lost her, he realised, and without Geoff, he might have never found out about it.

At that thought, guilt pierced his heart with an icy shard of regret. Elijah had never known the true extent of her issues, but he might be able to start making things up with her now.

“Zowie… how are you? It’s so nice to hear from you again!”

The knot in her throat tightened even more. She wanted to talk to Elijah, wanted to tell him exactly what was going on, but a part of her begged her not to. Would it be too much to ask for a normal friendship? A normal relationship in her life, for once? She hadn’t talked to this man in a long time and when she finally did, all she could do was load him with her issues. Orlando was right, Zowie realised bitterly. She _was_ needy.

“I’m… great, Lij.” Zowie murmured, ignoring how thick her voice sounded as she tried to push the words out. “It’s good to be back. Really good.” She added with a firmer tone.

At those words, Elijah felt a tenth of the weight on his shoulders lifting off. Zowie sounded choked, yes, but sincere as well; obviously, something she had always loved so much could only benefit her.

There was something else, however, something that awoke a sense of déjà vu inside him. Lij knew many things had happened and that she might as well not sound like the old Zowie, but there was something in her voice… something that sent all the alarms off in his brain. A shiver of apprehension trickled down his spine. There was only one person capable of making her deliriously happy or devastatingly sad, and both knew that person very well: Orlando.

“Tell me all about it.”

What could Zowie say, when every happy thought concerning her job was now clouded by a waif-like blonde that got on her nerves? And by a handsome young man who had, with his words, torn her heart to pieces? She still tried, and even managed to inject some enthusiasm into the story of the rehearsals in Los Angeles and the job in Spain. She told Elijah about Loarre and how impressive it was, the landscape that never failed to take her breath away, and even about the girls outside the hotel. By the time she was done, Zowie could feel her heart was, if only, a little lighter. The true reason why she had called Elijah, however, was like a shadow lurking behind her.

“How’s Geoff doing?” Elijah asked, trying to slowly, and subtly, bring the topic around to Orlando.

Despite her gloom, Zowie’s lips quirked in a small smile.

“He’s great. Excited. Driving us all to an early death with his demanding schedule, of course, but good nonetheless. You know him.”

“Oh, I do. Thank God Hobbits didn’t need to be expert swordfighters.”

He could almost hear the smile in Zowie’s face through the line, and his own happiness grew. Once again, they were close. Yes, they might be miles and miles away, they might not have seen each other in years, but as he talked to Zowie over the phone, Elijah could feel that same camaraderie and understanding he had felt in New Zealand all over again. It had once led Zowie to open up, and Elijah hoped it would do too now.

“That’s great. I’m glad to hear everything is working smoothly. But what about you, Zowie? How are _you_? About everything?”

At that, Zowie sighed, forcing herself to think of those things that had prompted her to call him in the first place. Elijah understood her. He never judged. And, above all, he was miles and miles away, a fact that made opening up to him a lot easier. For some reason, telling him everything that was going on seemed easier than doing it with Geoff or, God forbid, Orlando. Given their last conversation, Zowie could only imagine what he would do if she shared her fears with him; _needy_ would only be the first item on a long list of adjectives that would surely come to Orlando’s mind.

“It’s not easy, Lij.” She finally said, releasing a breath she didn’t realise she had been holding. “I want to do this. I’ve been clean for a month now, but it’s hard. There are times… when something goes wrong… that I want nothing more than to get a fix.”

Her tone was heavy with shame as she spoke those words. What did Elijah have that made Zowie speak her worse fears so freely? That made her open her heart with so little prodding? The thought scared her. So many people with power over her had hurt her, that she was wary of the feeling. Her dad, Matt, Orlando… she resented adding the latter to the list, but the way she felt after their argument, something inside her told her he had earned his place there. But Elijah… he couldn’t be placed there! He had power over her, yes, but he had always used it for good. Too bad Zowie hadn’t always listened to his advice.

Elijah’s heart contracted at those words, and at the obvious shame and fear that coloured her voice. God, what he’d give to be there! He hadn’t been able to see her before she left the country, and now he wished he had. It was obvious she was doing her best, that she was trying as hard as she could, but had someone noticed how hard it was for her? Had she even mentioned it to someone else other than him? Elijah admired her for her strength and determination, but something inside him questioned the wisdom of trying to do this on her own and away from everything. Zowie had been an addict for three years. She needed to recover in a safe environment where capable people could care for her, not on a movie set where stress poured over everyone from every angle! This was what she wanted, however, and he doubted trying to talk her into something different would work.

“No one said it would be easy, Zow.” He said, trying a different approach. “You knew that better than anyone, but you did it anyway. You still do. Recovery is an everyday struggle, and I can’t tell you enough how much I admire you for this.”

Zowie barely bit back a sob.

“I don’t know if I can do this, Lij. There are times… I just don’t feel strong enough. Sometimes something happens, and everything comes crumbling down.”

“You’re much stronger than you give yourself credit for, Zowie! You went through so much and still, there you are, doing something you love and taking control of your life once again. You were strong enough to overcome an ordeal, what makes you think you can’t do this now, when so many people support you?”

A silence filled the line for a moment so long, Elijah had already parted his lips to talk when Zowie finally murmured.

“I had a fight with Orlando.”

There it was, and for once, Elijah wished his intuition wasn’t right as he cursed Orlando inwardly. Why was it that every time Zowie had issues of some kind, Orlando was involved? He liked the guy and he knew he meant well most of the times, but whenever Zowie was involved, all Orlando seemed to do was cause trouble.

A memory came to his mind. Three years ago, when he was about to leave New Zealand for good, Zowie had given him a few presents, something he could take with him and that would remind him of this time there. The first was a framed set of pictures of them, one in the beach, another with Zowie in her Uruk-hai make-up. The picture had had a place of honour in his house upon returning to the US, but as time passed, it had been pushed further and further behind. Now, it was stored somewhere Elijah couldn’t remember, and guilt filled his entire being.

The other present was a letter, a very touching and personal letter Zowie had written him. In it, she thanked him for his support, his understanding, and for having been there for her when no one else could. He remembered it clearly now, as if he were sitting on the plane, reading it for the first time. Elijah didn’t know whether she had been conscious of it or not, but her need for him had been clear in every word she had written. He knew it now. She had needed help. Badly. But she had never known how to ask for it until it was almost too late.

“A fight?” He asked, his emotions tightly under control. “What for?”

Elijah’s hostility towards Orlando grew along with his own guilt. He should have helped Zowie. He should have worried more about her. But they had all turned their backs on her, and this is what they had done with their neglect. Orlando, above all others, should know that, and he still made things harder for her. His hand fisted around the receiver.

“Did you know he has a girlfriend?”

At that, Elijah’s guilt grew to epic proportions. Zowie didn’t know about Beth? Orlando was so popular at the moment, the news were all over the magazines and websites. How come she didn’t know about it? His puzzlement died when he realised what it was that Zowie had just come out of; Hollywood gossip had been, probably, the last thing on her mind.

But then, as his confusion waned some, a very convenient anger appeared, overruling the guilt that had until then burnt in his heart. Why hadn’t Orlando told Zowie about Beth? What had he expected to gain with it?

Elijah’s long silence tightened the tendrils of ice around Zowie’s heart.

“You knew.” She whispered, and although her voice sounded tired and resigned, it didn’t carry an ounce of accusation. Sighing heavily, she then added despondently. “So I _really_ was the only person who didn’t know about this.”

What little gloom she had managed to lift from her shoulders collapsed on them once again, making her feel older, worn and tired; very, very tired. Although the weight of every mistake she had made fell on her, it was knowing that Orlando was so close and yet so far away what made her feel that nothing would ever work out for her again. She needed that man so much, craved the stability he gave her, and being apart left Zowie feeling like a raft lost in a stormy sea.

“She showed up two nights ago.” She explained. “I was in Orlando’s room when someone knocked the door and I went to answer it. At first I thought she was a fan that had somehow made it through security, but… It wasn’t pretty, Lij. I had no idea she even existed.”

Zowie sounded every bit as despondent as Elijah imagined she felt. When he thought of her shock at the discovery, Elijah wanted nothing but to tell Orlando a thing or two. Or beat him to a pulp, although he imagined that wasn’t physically possible. Zowie was beyond vulnerable. She was recovering from a serious drug addiction that had lasted years. She had barely managed to escape an abusive boyfriend alive, and Orlando played with her? Zowie had relied on Orlando when the truth about her father came out, and Elijah would bet she was doing the same now. This would only mean a serious setback.

And still, he sensed there was more. Nothing was simple when Zowie and Orlando were concerned.

As if not noticing his silence, she carried on.

“Orlando tried to apologise, but I was so angry! Apparently, he felt the need to keep me in the dark about this because I’m too needy and immature. Not to mention stupid.” Zowie spat, her voice overflowing resentment and sadness at the mention of the last word.

Elijah gasped.

“Orlando called you that?” Was he out of his mind?

“In too many words, yes. He said the argument we were having was stupid, and that I couldn’t stand the idea of sharing him with anyone else like a grown up should.”

Begrudgingly, Elijah had to admit he could see some of the truth in Orlando’s words to her. He couldn’t possibly know all about the argument just by listening to Zowie’s side of the story, but knowing her, she would never share Orlando with anyone else. Especially not another woman; he had seen it happening before. And as for needing Orlando, there was no arguing that. She had always turned to him. And even at her worst, Orlando had always managed to put a smile on her face.

Taking a chance, Elijah voiced the question that came to his mind.

“What is it that bothers you the most, Zowie? That he didn’t tell you, or the fact that he has a girlfriend?”

Elijah’s words echoed in her ears, facing Zowie with a reality she had wanted to avoid all along. Orlando had lied to her, yes, and it hurt like hell. But the fact that he had someone in his life that was more important than she had obviously ever been? That was something she simply couldn’t accept, not when he had been the centre of her life since that grey afternoon in Wellington.

Zowie sighed. Why did Elijah have the ability to put her face to face with issues she would much rather ignore? A part of her wanted to take the less compromising route and say that she was mad at him solely because of Orlando’s lie, but what was the point? She had called Elijah for a reason, and that was her certainty that he would understand pretty much everything. Hadn’t he already, after all? He hadn’t ran away after she admitted having given her first time to a drunk Orlando, so she imagined he wouldn’t do it now either. Besides, she craved his serenity when everything around her had been turned upside down.

“I still love him, Lij.” Zowie finally admitted, honesty and sentiment obvious in her every word. “I’m livid that he never told me about it, and it gets worse every time I realise I was the only one who didn’t know about her. Have you seen her, Elijah? Have you _really_ seen her? She’s bland, rude, annoying, and she’s not even pretty!” With a soft, trembling voice, she then added. “Why her, Lij? Why her and not me?”

That was it. Finally, the question that had been going around in her mind since Beth had showed up, came out. And as it did, silent tears began to stream down her face.

Elijah’s heart broke in his chest and, more than ever before with her, he felt trapped in a crossroad. Deep down inside, all he wanted to do was have Zowie telling Orlando to go to hell so she could go on with her life with a semblance of normalcy. He knew, however, that it wouldn’t work. This was Zowie, the same girl who had flown halfway around the world for a man who only seemed bent on breaking her heart; telling her to quit on Orlando altogether would do no good. If anything, it would only have the opposite effect.

Reluctantly, Elijah took a deep breath. His next words didn’t come from his heart; in fact, that very same heart was begging him not to say them out loud. He might be doing this on Zowie’s momentary behalf, but what about the long run? Giving in to Orlando every time, forgiving him each time he did something wrong had done nothing for her. What could assure Elijah that things would be any different now?

However, knowing Zowie as he did and, above all, wanting her to be happy, he finally said.

“Why don’t you just talk to him? I know.” He hurried to say when he heard her intake of breath at his suggestion. “Apologising is never easy, but… could you put up with having him mad at you?”

The words almost hurt him on the way out. This was _not_ what he wanted to say, but could he bear knowing Zowie was miserable when doing this would make her feel so much better? It wasn’t right, but when considering everything she had gone through, if being in good terms with Orlando put a smile on her face…

“I don’t know.” She murmured, torn. On one hand, there was nothing she wanted more than to be in speaking terms with Orlando once again, but apologising, and especially for something she hadn’t done? That had never been her forte.

Elijah sighed, frustration building inside him.

“Zowie… you love Orlando. You said it yourself. You want to forgive him, I know you do… You wouldn’t be this troubled if you didn’t. If being mad at him makes you this miserable, then why don’t try to make things up with him instead?”

As always, Elijah made more sense than Zowie could ever possibly make. His words took her back to her earlier thoughts, about that masochism Orlando accused her of. If she did something about it, then that proved she didn’t enjoy being miserable, right? A wave of relief rose inside her as Elijah’s words put everything into perspective. Yes, she was mad, and she had every reason to be so but, did she really want this go on? Did she really want to push Orlando away when he was the only one who could make her happy? Of course, there was that not-so-small detail called Beth, but hey, if dealing with her meant she got Orlando back… Understanding that felt like a huge load had been lifted off her shoulders.

“I’ll try, Lij. And thanks. From the bottom of my heart. After all that happened, you have no idea how much this… how much _you_ mean to me.”

Those heartfelt words left Elijah’s heart torn in two. Zowie deserved to be happy; if not for everything she had gone through, simply because she was a good person. She just, like everyone else himself included, had her twists and turns that made her a complex and sometimes downright infuriating person, but deep inside, she didn’t deserve the cards life had dealt her. He just wished that, for once, she saw that her strength came from within, and not from someone else. Elijah sighed. That was definitely _not_ a topic to cover that day; they would talk about it later on, though. He would make sure of that.

“That’s what friends are for, Zow.” He said at last, and even through the line, he could sense Zowie’s smile.

“I know. Just don’t go all sappy on me. I’m not sure I know how to handle a sappy Elijah.”

He laughed despite himself.

“Sappy Elijah is good sometimes, you know?”

When Zowie giggled, Elijah knew the balance had been, somewhat, restored. He still made the firm vow to talk to her again soon, however, and work some things out. She might love Orlando more than anything, but the time would come when Zowie would have to stand on her own two feet, no matter what. With that in mind, Elijah said his goodbyes.

Having hung up with her friend, Zowie felt a tranquillity inside her that hadn’t been there since Beth showed up. As always, Elijah’s help had been inestimable, and it was thanks to him that she had finally made up her mind. She wouldn’t lose Orlando over a bland little thing that shot daggers at her with her watery blue eyes! What she felt for him was much too strong to let it go over _her._ It wouldn’t be easy, but the perfect excuse was laid out at her feet: Orlando was turning twenty seven the following day. He had to be happy on his birthday, right? Enough to accept her apology, at least. Or so she hoped, Zowie realised as a wave of concern rose inside her. At least she hoped it would work. If it didn’t, then she had no idea what she would do.


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26.**

 

Zowie wasn't good at many things and she knew it, but admitting defeat? That sat comfortably at the very top of a long list. She hated to be proved wrong, hated to have something obvious pointed out at her as if she were much too stupid to notice it herself. But, above all, she loathed having to admit that she had been wrong. She still had enough issues admitting to herself all the bad choices she had made in the past, to even try and do what she pondered in that very instant.

She had thought she would win. That after a few days of silence, of giving him the cold shoulder, Orlando would come to her grovelling for forgiveness. In fact, Zowie had been so sure it would work, so _determined_ to make it work, that for long three days she had clung to that decision with all her might. Even when, deep down inside, it killed her.

Talking to Elijah, however, had put everything into perspective. Could she honestly carry on avoiding Orlando? How long would she be able to pretend nothing bothered her while inside her heart broke to pieces? Watching him in the distance had the same effect on her it had had four years ago. Even when she tried to busy herself elsewhere on set, Zowie always ended up doing what she could to catch some glimpses of Orlando. She watched him work, watched him train with Geoff… and even tortured herself watching his interaction with Beth.

It couldn't be helped. Even if Zowie hated Beth and the sole idea of her and Orlando being together in the first place, she was still drawn to them like a moth to the flame. It was almost as if she _had_ to get her fix of them no matter what, and that idea brought her back to that masochism Orlando accused her of. And she hated it.

In a way, Zowie feared seeing them together was the only way she could convince herself that they were actually a couple. She almost snorted at that. As if she needed any more proof! Zowie shifted in her spot, an angry frown darkening her features. Everywhere she went, she heard comments of her co-workers raving over how cute they looked together, or how much they liked to keep their privacy.

Yeah, right, Zowie could have said. Holding hands in front of every fan outside the hotel? Yes, so much for privacy! And as for cute, Zowie didn't even want to go there. Was she the only one who saw the truth there? Was she the only one who noticed how mismatched Orlando and Beth looked together, how they would be better suited with anyone else but with each other?

And yet, Beth was there; a much bigger part of Orlando’s life than Zowie herself. Even though Zowie had known him since he was nothing but a hopeful young actor getting the chance of a lifetime, he still preferred Beth over her, and that pierced Zowie's heart with a sheer pain. Did Orlando really love Beth? And why? Why her and not Zowie, who knew about his insecurities? Who had been there when no paparazzi chased after him, when his only fans were Zowie herself and the make-up girls at _Rings_?

Where had Beth been as Orlando worked hard to make a name for himself in the business? Only when the worst part was done and Orlando, famous all over the world, managed to land himself his first starring role in a big budget production, did she show up. Right now, there was more he could offer than a simple relationship: he could offer fame, recognition and attention to anyone he chose to be with. No matter how famous this girl could be on her own, dating the heartthrob of the moment couldn't hurt her. Hell, hate letters or threats wouldn’t either, Zowie mused. Whoever thought this tiny little girl was weak hadn’t obviously seen her ugly side.

But why did Orlando defend her so much, then? Was he so in love with Beth that he was blinded to her true self? The sole idea twisted Zowie's heart painfully. She remembered it clearly. He had seen _and_ heard how Beth treated Zowie that night. Why had he so clearly taken Beth's side, then? Zowie hadn’t expected him to dump his girlfriend the minute she told him what she thought of Beth – well, perhaps she had at the beginning –, but she had surely expected a little more understanding on his side. Instead, he defended Beth, accusing Zowie of being jealous and immature.

Immature? Zowie bit her lip in frustration. He had no idea what she had gone through. She had left her house _and_ country at the age of eighteen. She had been put through the trauma of discovering her dad's secret life, and she had lived with an abusive boyfriend who had left her for dead in a street months ago. Orlando had no idea what he was talking about.

And as for jealous... Zowie inhaled deeply. Admitting that didn’t sit well with her either, but with Beth taking what should have been hers all along, she couldn’t feel very differently about it. Orlando was the guy Zowie had loved for years. He was supposed to fall in love with _her_ , not with someone else! He was the one that kept Zowie sane and that gave her strength to go on, but that girl had managed to come between them like no one else before. And Beth knew it, which made it imperative for Zowie to act.

Beth knew she was getting in the way, and she was doing her best to break Zowie and Orlando apart. Any other day, Zowie would have found it almost impossible to believe that someone so tiny could be so completely annoying and purposefully evil, but the proof before her eyes spoke volumes.

Beth was everywhere. How, Zowie didn't know, but Orlando's girlfriend was always there. Every time she looked, everywhere she looked, her pale blond head was visible and it never failed to get on Zowie's nerves. If Orlando was on set, then Beth was there, following him everywhere, hanging from his arm whenever she had the chance. If he went to his trailer to rest, so did she. At least she hoped it was rest what they did in the trailer; the sole idea of them doing what had only ended up as a disaster between him and Zowie herself made her want to curl up and cry. That, or run away and look for the first dealer she could find, hoping drugs could erase those dreadful images from her head.

Zowie shook her head, trying to vanish such thoughts from her mind as she returned to the matter at hand. Point was, Beth was indeed winning. Elijah’s talk, but above all the smug, self-satisfied grin Beth had given her the night before as she walked hand in hand with Orlando, had made Zowie realise she couldn’t let that happen.

Incredulity, anger… Zowie had felt them all at the sight. But when pain slashed at her heart, she realised she couldn’t let that go on much longer. Not once in those three days had Orlando even looked at her. She was like a disease he seemed to wish to avoid at all cost, and it hurt like hell. She knew she had angered him like never before, but couldn’t he see her point? She needed him, had needed him all along, and that he could so selfishly deprive her of all that was a blow Zowie couldn’t stand.

Understanding that had been the turning point. Seeing how Orlando pointedly ignored her had prompted Zowie to realise that some things had to change.

If Zowie wanted to win Orlando back before their relationship was damaged beyond recognition, she had to act. Elijah’s words had helped a lot. She wanted to stay mad at Orlando, but what did she win with that? Nothing. So Zowie had come to a determination. She needed and loved Orlando too much to let that tiny blonde thing win. She firmly believed every word she had said about Beth, but if lying and pretending to be sorry earned him back, then that she would do. Acting aggravated and angry had only upset Orlando, so now Zowie would keep her mouth shut. Even if it killed her.

Her point was simple. So the guy had a girlfriend, right? That might not sit very well with Zowie, but, who said she had to be friends with Beth? If she had to endure her presence in order to be with Orlando, well… she had done worse things in the past, so she could _definitely_ pull this one off.

Zowie nodded to herself. Her plan was so simple, it _had_ to work. So Orlando thought her nothing but an immature and spoiled little girl? Then Zowie would take great care on showing him how awfully wrong he was. Beth had no idea, but she was supplying Zowie with all the means she needed to win her victory, and she was hell bent on using them all. If Orlando's girlfriend kept on acting as obnoxiously as she had in those few days, then Zowie would be her complete opposite. If Beth was annoying, then Zowie would be the epitome of understanding. The sole idea was tiring, but Zowie was sure she could play the game as long as Orlando waited for her at the finishing line. Could Beth, though?

Still, this wasn't what Zowie had planned for Orlando's 27th birthday. She had been waiting for that day for what seemed an eternity, not once imagining she would spend the celebrations betting all her chips on her plan to win his trust back.

She took a look around. A majority of those involved in the production were gathered in that conference room the hotel had offered them, and a few feet away, Zowie could spot Geoff talking to a part of his team. Whether he was talking to them about the day that had just finished or the one that would come in the morning, she didn't know. She could see Brian amongst them, and guilt spiralled inside her: he was the first casualty of her drama and confused feelings. She hadn't meant to cruelly take back what she had offered him just days ago, but Zowie had had no option. Her machinations hadn’t impressed the producers, and they had given her strict orders to take her usual position back and never even consider swapping places with anyone again.

Feeling uncomfortable, Zowie shifted on her spot. Her eyes left the small group and then scanned the rest of the crowd with a mix of impatience and envy. _That_ was how she had planned to spend the evening as well, she thought: laughing, and standing very close to the birthday boy. But that wasn't going to be. For a fleeting instant, lost and desperate, Zowie hated them all for their lightness and their good mood. She had had such plans for the evening...

Taking a deep breath, Zowie tried to ease those disturbing thoughts out of her mind as her hand found its way into the back pocket of her jeans, where Orlando's present waited to be delivered. While she knew next to nothing about Buddhism and that part of Orlando's beliefs, Zowie had come across a beautiful set of praying beads called _mala_ that had instantly caught her eye. According to the saleswoman, _mala_ beads were used to drive away evil as well as to fill a person with peace and bliss. That alone had made up her mind. Orlando had been tense and nervous even before leaving Los Angeles, which had made Zowie want to help somehow. She wasn't sure how the beads worked, but if they helped Orlando put his mind at ease and enjoy his job a bit more, then she would give it a try. She now just hoped to get the chance to give him the present altogether.

* * *

The birthday boy kept them waiting a bit longer, but when he finally arrived, he was greeted by each and everyone in the room. Presents abounded, as well as good wishes and toasts, but Zowie observed it all from a safe distance. Beth was there too, of course, but had Zowie truly expected anything different? Not really, but while Beth remained there, Zowie would have to wait. It was hard enough to pretend she was sorry for saying things she didn't regret saying at all, but doing it in front of Beth? No way.

She might have to wait a long time, though, Zowie mused when Beth directed a frigid look at her. There was a warning written in her pale blue eyes that was plain for the world to see, and it said: _‘you're not getting anywhere near him'_. But even though it was aimed solely at her, Zowie wasn’t intimidated. Out of the many things she feared, Zowie was proud to say that Beth wasn’t one of them. That was why she returned the gesture, letting the blonde girl know that she wasn’t out of the game. Not yet.

Having accomplished her mission, Zowie pointedly looked away, ready to turn her back on the couple until she was ready for the next step. Her eyes, however, were soon held captive by that deep brown gaze that had burnt in her memory for four long years, not once disappearing despite all her hardships.

As they stared intently at each other, ignoring the world around them, Zowie had an epiphany. How could she not try everything in her power to win Orlando back? When looking at him and realising how much he meant to her, Zowie understood that being civil to his girlfriend wasn’t that much of a burden, not if that meant having him by her side once again. She wasn’t going to lose him, not over that girl! Or anyone else, for that matter, not when she needed him so much.

It _had_ to work, she told herself as she looked away, her heart hammering in her chest. And she would make it work, no matter what.

* * *

The party went on for some time, and while Orlando was grateful for all the people that had shown up, there was only one person he hadn't known he had been hoping to see there until their eyes met across the busy room.

He was still angry at Zowie, there was no mistake about it. He still thought that, in some matters, she had a lot of growing up to do, but he couldn't carry on denying his own share of guilt in that mess. Had he told her the truth from the very beginning, Zowie would have never had to react that way. Although Orlando still didn't accept Zowie calling Beth all those things, his guilt-ridden heart was willing to give her one more try.

To be completely honest with himself, truth was that Orlando had discovered he didn't want to be apart from Zowie. It wasn't about how much she needed him to recover from her addiction; it was about how much Orlando himself needed her. They had become much closer in the past weeks than he had realised, and knowing he was punishing her for his own mistakes made him feel like the worst person alive.

Truth was, Orlando enjoyed being around Zowie. He enjoyed her sharp wit and intelligence, and missed her patience and dedication when he couldn't get a sword fighting move right. But, above all, he missed _her_. Zowie could be stubborn at times, but unlike Beth, she knew him. His girlfriend might understand the demands of his career, but Zowie? Zowie understood _him_ , the man, and that was very important to him in a moment when everyone seemed to want a piece of him without really caring about his feelings.

That thought made guilt bubble inside him one more time. Zowie had always cared about him. He had her taken for granted in New Zealand, and it wasn't until he looked back that Orlando realised how big of a support she had been back then. Simply by being there, by listening to him, Zowie had been a presence Orlando had always counted on. Just like she was right now. What had they been talking about before Beth showed up at his doorstep, after all? About his concerns and his insecurities, the kind of matter Zowie always knew how to listen to. How could he not feel guilty now, as his eyes scanned the room but were unable to find her? She had offered him so much, and Orlando had never done a single thing to repay her. The thought was like a knife twisting in his heart.

With a sigh, Orlando's gaze fell on his drink, staring intently into it as he enjoyed a rare moment of solitude. It wasn’t usual that, in the middle of a production this big, he had the chance to have some time to himself, and it was funny that it happened in a party. Usually, there was always someone to talk to, someone to rehearse lines with, some kind of training to do. The only time Orlando had to himself were those short hours every night when he took a shower, grabbed something to eat and went to bed, only to start again in the morning. Now Beth took up those hours as well, and while he enjoyed having her around, there were times when he still wanted some time alone. That was why he made the most out of those brief moments on his own, and why he was so intent on what was going on inside him that he didn't notice the person standing next to him until a soft, insecure voice spoke.

“Happy birthday, Orlando.”

A small shiver tickled its way down his spine at the sound of that voice, one that took him completely by surprise with its novelty.

His gaze moved slowly, but at last he met those crystalline blue eyes he had been thinking of. He knew them well enough to notice the barely concealed wariness there, one that made his heart clench with shame. That was his own doing, Orlando realised. Regardless of her own part in it, that guarded look had been caused by him, and it hurt horribly.

“Thank you.” He answered, and a voice inside him wondered how it was possible to go from complete easiness, to that uncomfortable tension that hung between them in a matter of days.

Zowie stared up at him, not sure what to make out of the man standing before her. She wanted him back, but not once had she stopped to consider the improbability of it all. She had insulted his girlfriend, for God’s sake! Given that, Orlando had every right to turn around and walk away in that very instant.

Realising there was no point on delaying things any longer, Zowie took a deep breath and decided to go straight to the point.

“I know this is not the time or place to talk about this, but-” The words got stuck in her throat, her pride loathing the idea of what she was about to say. “I'm sorry. I was wrong in saying all those things the other day, but I was hurt and shocked and...” Her voice trailed off, and risking one quick glance at Orlando's face, Zowie felt her heart skipping several beats. He was just as serious and unaffected as he had been when she approached him, and suddenly, all her hopes of winning him back began to fade from her mind. Still, her stubborn streak surged to life, and looking up at him, she added. “I guess that what I'm trying to say is that I'm a grown up, and that I can handle my friend having a girlfriend. Regardless of...” _Of how bland and annoying they are._ “Well, of how awful I sounded the other day.”

Orlando didn't react. His face didn’t change, and not a single word came out of his tightly sealed lips, making Zowie see that there was no way back. She had ruined it all, she realised. Once again, her idiocy had got the best of her, and she had rushed headlong into trouble. Tears stung her eyes.  Would she ever learn?

She couldn’t stand there another second. Posing the small package of his present on the table right next to him, Zowie gave him a brief look she hoped concealed the pain that tore her insides.

“This is for you. Happy birthday.”

Zowie would have wanted to say something that made the serious, almost imperturbable look on Orlando's face disappear, but her heart knew it wasn't going to happen. With nothing more than a quick nod, she scurried out of the hall, struggling to keep the tears from streaming down her cheeks. She would _not_ cry in public, Zowie told herself; no matter how big her grief could be, she would _not_ feed the gossip she was sure already went on behind her back. So holding her head up high, she quickly walked away, hoping against hope no one dared to stand on her way.

No one did; not even that person Zowie had secretly hoped would come after her. But grateful for the lack of interruptions nonetheless, she reached the corridor that led to the elevators in no time. Each step took her closer and closer to the peace and privacy of her room, but also, it brought her dangerously close to the edge of her self-control. She had failed. Again. The thought pierced her brain, almost mocking her, and a shiver coursed her body. She would always fail, a voice spoke inside her. She would never be able to do something right.

She was almost running by the time she slid into the first open elevator she could find, and although she knew it would achieve nothing, she repeatedly pushed the button to her floor, willing the doors to close faster. She longed for that separation, for that privacy, and she prayed no one else would feel the need to get in with her.

He was a blur. Zowie never saw him coming, but the moment he managed to squeeze into the elevator before the doors closed, the fire of anger blazed to life inside her. Couldn’t she be alone for just one minute? Couldn’t that guy just take another elevator and…?

Whatever annoyance Zowie had felt at the intrusion, vanished the minute her eyes met those of the man standing before her. Her reaction to him, however, was primal, and she couldn’t have stopped it no matter what. Instinctively, almost expecting him to lash at her for her faults, Zowie quickly stepped away from Orlando, back tightly pressed against the wall and wide eyes fixed on him.

Orlando didn't know whether she had even noticed her own actions, but that she recoiled away from him in such way was a painful reminder of all that Zowie had gone through in his absence. Did she expect him to hit her like her ex-boyfriend had? The thought repulsed him, igniting the flame of anger in his heart. Anger at Matt, for all that he had done to her. Anger at Zowie, for thinking he could be in any way like that bastard. But, above all, anger at himself, for it was his own lack of reaction minutes ago what had led her to act that way.

“You didn't give me the chance to say thank you.” He finally said, opening his hand to show the _mala_ beads resting on his palm.

It was the silliest excuse, but the tears he had seen in her eyes had been the last push he needed to act. Orlando still didn’t know why he had opened her present before going after her, but the minute the beads fell on his palm, he knew he had to do it. He knew what they were for and why Zowie had given them to him, how could Orlando not run after her no matter what?

Staring up at him, Zowie felt as puzzled and lost as never before in her life. Orlando had come after her to say _that_? To thank her for her present? She wasn't sure whether she should feel happy or offended after the treatment she had received from him seconds ago.

With a cool edge to her voice, she responded.

“There was no need.”

Orlando merely shook his head.

“You're wrong.” He said, and when he stepped closer to her, his eyes glowing intently, Zowie's heart leapt to her throat.

Something in the back of her mind reacted instinctively, and for a moment, she was transported back to Matt closing in on her, ready to punish her for whatever she had done wrong. Or whatever _he_ thought she had done wrong. Before she could stop herself, Zowie closed her eyes, turned her face to the side and covered her upper body with her arms, ready to protect herself from the blow that would surely come.

But it never came, and a second later, Zowie was pressed tightly against a body she knew all too well… the only one that could make her snap out of that horrible illusion she had found herself in for the briefest of instants.

Orlando hugged her tight, closer than he had ever done before. That sudden look of sheer terror in Zowie’s eyes, the way she had tried to shield herself from an attack that would never come from him, spoke volumes. That reaction alone told Orlando more about her life with Matt than Zowie probably ever would, and his heart ached, claiming for revenge. That sick bastard was still out there, posing a threat to other unsuspecting girls that, like Zowie, fell in his trap. The sole idea drove Orlando insane. If only he got _one_ chance to lay his hands on Matt!

His vengeful haze, however, shattered the minute Zowie’s hands found a way to his waist. They were shy, as if they were afraid to be rejected, but when he felt them, Orlando pulled her even closer, her soft hair tickling his nose. She had given him those beads because she knew he needed peace. Now it was Zowie who needed reassurance, and Orlando would do anything in his power to do so.

“I'm sorry.” He murmured in her ear. She took a deep breath, but Orlando went on before she even got the chance to utter a word. “I behaved like an idiot. I was mad at myself and I ended up taking it all out on you. It was my fault, Zowie. I should have talked to you about it from the very beginning and none of this would have happened.”

Those words were more than Zowie had even dared to hope for. Orlando was sorry! He was sorry for hurting her, for lying to her, for acting the way he had towards her. A surge of hope so strong came to life inside her, Zowie felt almost overwhelmed. She hadn't lost him! No matter who came between them, who tried to set them apart, Orlando didn't want to be away from her any more than Zowie herself did. At that, realisation filled her with such joy she felt her heart would burst with the light that came from deep within her.

“It was my fault too.” Zowie finally said. Even though she still felt she was right about Beth, she couldn’t deny her own share of guilt in it. “I acted like a kid. But I was just so surprised, so confused, that I had no idea what to do. I said things I shouldn't have said, but I was so mad...”

Her arms had finally slid around his waist, holding him as tightly as Orlando himself held her, but when he let go of her, Zowie panicked. Had she said the wrong thing? Had she said too much?

“I never meant to hurt you.” He said, taking her face in his big, strong hands and compelling her to look up into those eyes she knew would be forever engraved in her mind. “When I first saw you in Los Angeles all I wanted to do was help you, make you feel safe, show you that you could trust people again. But I almost end up destroying everything.”

Zowie nodded. She had been mad at him and there were many things she could have said, but her fear of losing him was so big, she kept her lips tightly sealed.

“And I should have been more mature about it.” She said. “But then I realised how wrong I had been and I knew I had to make things up with you somehow. I couldn't go on like that, not with you.” Orlando smiled, and the butterflies ran rampant, making her heart flutter. She had the almost irrepressible urge to kiss him, to taste those soft lips like she had once, but she knew that would only ruin everything. “I promise to try harder. I'll be better, I swear. I might be a pain, even more so now than ever before, but I can do it. I promise.”

His eyes grew stern for a second.

“You're not a pain, Zowie. You never were. I'm here because I want to, that's all.”

At that, Zowie gave him a lopsided grin.

“You mean here in the lift? Yeah, I could see that. I never saw anyone getting in one quite as fast as you did.”

Orlando gave her a puzzled look for a second, but when he noticed her attempt to lighten the mood, if only a little, he couldn't help but smile in return. He knew she didn't want to talk about certain things, but for that moment, he could let it pass. He was too happy not to.

“I had to thank you for your present.” He said, and his eyes took on a warmer, deeper tone that made Zowie's heart skip several beats. His thumbs brushed her cheeks, and her knees almost buckled under his touch. “Thank you, Zow.”

He didn't need to say more for Zowie to understand what he meant. He had seen the reason behind her choice, and that was all that mattered.

The door slid open with a cling, dragging them back to reality. Pressing her forehead against his, Zowie hugged him tighter.

“You better go back. If there’s one lousy birthday party out there, that's the one _without_ the birthday boy in it.”

“You'd be surprised,” Orlando counter-attacked. “Some of the best birthday parties I've been to never saw a hint of the birthday boy. Or girl.”

Zowie smiled, and it took all of her to finally let him go.

“Go.” She prompted as she stepped back into the corridor, even if her heart begged her to lock herself up in that elevator with Orlando and never let him go. “I'll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Orlando nodded, and as if hearing a silent command, the doors slid close, leaving Zowie with her heart both sad and deliriously happy at the same time. She wanted nothing more than to spend every remaining moment of the night with Orlando, but in order to make that work, she had to give him space. Instead, she clung to her feeling of happiness. He was back and he was happy to be so, and that was all that mattered. With a smile, Zowie went to her room, knowing that as long as Orlando was in her life, nothing could go wrong.


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27.**

 

The bang of his trailer door being slammed hard against its frame was so loud, Orlando winced. This time, however, he didn't bother wondering what others might think about it. Two weeks ago, he had felt it was his duty to put up with it, but not anymore.

Orlando had to admit it had been very innocent of him, silly even, to think that making things up with Zowie would have absolutely no repercussions with Beth. That both girls would accept each other without a look back simply because he had worked some things out. He had never been as gullible as to believe they would become best friends or anything, but the constant drama he was getting from his girlfriend? That wasn't what he had anticipated either.

He had expected complaints and even a fight, yes, but this on-going confrontation? It was getting on his nerves. And not just his; when a producer talked to Orlando, he realised how big of a problem she was. Beth’s attitude and her drama, he had been told, were affecting his job. He would have wanted to deny that, but the moment he parted his lips to do so, no words came out. There was no use denying the obvious, not when everything Beth did seemed bent on making his life hell.

Orlando knew Beth wasn't the easiest person to be with, but he had never wanted her to change. The worse of her temper had been easy to deal with until then, but boy his patience was running thin now! It was as if the very worst of her personality, a side she had always kept hidden from him, emerged. Orlando had felt guilty at first, had tried to understand her, but two weeks were a long time for anyone to put up with a drama that only seemed to increase.

Beth had been around while he was filming before. Nevertheless, there had always been something to do, some place to go, some sight to visit while he was busy. In short, Beth had had a _life_. Now, all she did was cling to his side day and night, on set and off, almost as if making sure Orlando had no time for anything or anyone else but her. Consequently, whatever other activities Beth could have had had been scratched from her list until it consisted of only one item: Orlando. And while she showed her discomfort everywhere, it was on set, and especially when Orlando trained, that the worst of her came out. And it was always, invariably, aimed at Zowie.

Beth’s feeling for his friend were so intense, Orlando struggled to comprehend it. It wasn’t simple dislike; it was pure and unaltered hatred she expressed in loud and clear terms whenever Zowie was around, making everyone uncomfortable. However, while his girlfriend’s attitude was every bit as shocking, Zowie’s response to it simply dumbfounded him.

Gone was the girl from two weeks ago that had spat just as much venom as Beth did nowadays, replaced by someone whose maturity took him completely by surprise. Even when constantly put to test by Beth in the most diverse ways, Zowie remained true to her promise, not once answering back to a single one of Beth's taunts. And there had been lots, Orlando mused; some of them serious enough to have him so close to the edge, it demanded everything he possessed to keep himself from snapping at her in plain sight.

Nonetheless, and no matter how hard Beth poked and prodded, Zowie never allowed her temper get the best of her. And knowing Zowie like he did, Orlando imagined she had plenty of acid comebacks stored inside, but that she handled that disaster so maturely made Orlando appreciate her under a new light. She was going through a process that was anything but easy, and still she had enough presence of mind to try and not make things harder for him. Now, if only his girlfriend followed her example...

Every time Zowie endured another comment with nothing but a tightening of her jaw, Orlando's admiration grew. Doing her best to ignore Beth, Zowie simply went on, although every time their eyes met, Orlando could see how hard it was for her to keep her mouth shut. But she did nonetheless, and knowing she was making the effort to keep true to her promise made him feel important and cherished. While Beth was demanding, Zowie was understanding. If Beth clung to him every minute of the day, then Zowie took a step back and gave Orlando the space he needed. It was then that Zowie acted more like the supportive girlfriend Beth used to be, while the latter acted like the needy, jealous and possessive friend he had accused Zowie of being some weeks ago.

It just was so easy to be with Zowie! Every minute they spent together Orlando discovered new things about her, things he had either overlooked over the years or that he had simply taken for granted. He waited anxiously for every minute he got to spend with her, for amidst that fiasco with Beth, Zowie made every day more bearable simply by being there.

But it wasn’t just this newly discovered maturity what made him all the more aware of Zowie. As they trained together under Geoff's ever watchful eye, Orlando began to notice things about her he had never paid attention to before. Her focus and her drive had always been there, but that pretty seventeen-year-old with a lust for life that rivalled his own? It had given way to a beautiful woman Orlando enjoyed spending his time with.

Zowie had always been beautiful, there was no denying that. And now, as circumstances brought them together once again, Orlando realised how much he had blinded himself to her attractive all those years ago. And why? Because getting involved with Zowie in New Zealand would have been a bigger mistake than he could possibly handle.

Sighing, Orlando shifted on the couch until he was lying on his back and his legs were propped up against the wall, an arm covering his eyes. It wasn’t easy to come to terms with such truth, but as he looked back in time, he couldn’t help but think he had actually done the right thing. Zowie’s tears when he left her country for good, for example? Orlando now knew the drugs had been involved in that too, but things could have been much worse had they been involved like he had wanted when he first laid eyes on her. Had they been together then, what would have happened to her? Parting ways had been bad enough without a bond other than a profound friendship and hurting Zowie had always been the last thing in Orlando’s mind.

That was why Orlando had never allowed himself to feel for Zowie what he honestly wanted to feel. There had been an undeniable attraction at first, of course. But there had also been trust, companionship, and laughter, all of which had made their friendship grow. Why ruin that, then? Zowie had been too young back then. _He_ had been too young. She had deserved to be left alone so she could get to know other people, and find a boyfriend who wouldn't leave her when the final deadline arrived. He knew he had done well. Why did it feel so wrong, then?

Because those feelings Orlando had thought long dead and buried were slowly resurfacing, and he had no idea what to do with them.

What would happen after shooting ended? Zowie said she would fly to New Zealand to visit her family, but also that she would be back in Los Angeles as soon as possible. Los Angeles, the same city Orlando would fly back to once they were finished in Morocco. Was there any way they could take things from there?

But Zowie was vulnerable, and he knew it. That was why Orlando did his best to keep his confusing feelings to himself, refusing to think of the future when there were still so many things to be worked out in the present. All he knew was that he wanted Zowie to be a part of his life the way he had denied himself – and her – all those years ago. In order to do that, however, he first needed to figure some things out; he wasn’t going to jump head-first into something that would only end up hurting them both and ruining their friendship.

A soft knock on the door interrupted Orlando’s thoughts, bringing an exasperated sigh to his lips. Why was it so hard to have some time to himself? The thought that Beth might be back for another round briefly crossed his mind, but that knock on itself refuted it; if Beth wanted more, she wouldn’t bother knocking first. That idea alone lifted his spirits, if only barely, and he voiced his permission without uncovering his eyes.

“Come in!”

He heard the door opening and closing and soft steps, but as seconds passed and nothing but silence filled the trailer, intrigue began to flow inside him. Orlando wasn’t sure what to expect, but the moment he uncovered his eyes, his heart pleasantly skipped a beat at the sight they met.

“Comfortable enough?” Zowie’s chuckle filled the trailer as she studied him from her spot by the door. Arching an eyebrow, she added. “Can I bring you a pillow, a blanket, perhaps a cup of tea?”

“What about something stronger? I could really use something to relax.”

Zowie laughed softly as she closed the distance between them.

“Sorry, bar's closed. And I'm afraid the blanket won't do either.” She said with an apologetic look. “Geoff wants you out there, hopefully now… He's determined to go through that whole choreography today. I tried to talk him out of it, but the guy's stubborn. Sorry.”

Orlando shook his head and then patted a space next to him on the couch, a sign Zowie understood right away. Plopping down next to him, she rested her back on the wall next to his legs, eyeing him with interest.

“Are you tired?” She asked with a concerned look. “Because I could try to talk Geoff out of this training frenzy he's into if you want me to, give you some time to relax and-”

Orlando interrupted her by shaking his head. Then, his left hand, as if having a mind of its own, posed itself on her thigh.

“It's okay. I'll be out there in a minute. I just... I was just thinking.” He said hesitantly. A few seconds passed, but the reassuring look in her eyes prompted him to go on. “Thank you.”

If anything, Zowie only looked more confused.

“Thank me? What for?”

“For the way you're handling everything. I know it's not easy and believe me, I've tried to talk to Beth about this but she's... well...”

Impossible? A complete pain? Someone who deserved to be pushed off a cliff? _'Take your pick,'_ Zowie felt tempted to say, but kept her thoughts to herself. She had achieved so much in the past weeks, she wasn't going to let it go to waste by muttering some idiotic words.

“It's okay, Orlando. Honestly.” She tried to reassure him, but the way Orlando looked at her told her he didn't quite agree with her.

“It's not _okay_ , Zowie. In fact, it's the quite the opposite from it.” Orlando's words were stern, but Zowie knew it wasn't directed at her, but instead at the whole situation they were in. “I've tried to talk to her, but she gets worse every time.” Squeezing her leg, he asked. “How are you feeling?”

Pondering her stock of answers, Zowie finally decided on the most honest one. She had already lied to Orlando enough, and now made a point of being as truthful as she could and nothing more.

“I try not to let her get to me. It's not easy most of the times, but I focus on what's important. That usually works.”

The certainty with which she spoke those words both surprised and pleased Orlando. Sketching a tiny smile, he propped himself up on an elbow and asked.

“And what's so important?”

Zowie smiled brightly.

“You.”

That simple answer rocked the foundations of Orlando's world. There was such a certainty, and at the same time such joy in the way she spoke that word that Orlando felt nothing would ever be the same. There were so many things he wanted to say, they tumbled one against the other, and just when he thought he would say something that would ruin everything, Zowie, still smiling, stood up and patted his arm.

“I can handle it, Orlando. I promise. Now get ready and go out there before Geoff goes mad on us. I wasn't lying when saying he was on a frenzy.”

Before he could add anything, Zowie turned around and walked out, not without giving him a smile first. How did she expect to come out as if nothing had happened? If only Zowie knew the kind of turmoil that simple word had caused inside him, she would have never walked out with a smile on her face. Orlando had been lost until then, yes, but that simple word? It had left him in an utter state of confusion.

 _“You.”_ She had said.

Oh, God.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28.**

 

“Since you obviously _had_ to come, no matter what, can’t you at least be of any use and get me something to eat? I'm starving.”

Hadn't Zowie been so deeply angry, she could have easily burst out laughing at Beth's words. For once, the request itself and the way she had phrased it amused her; did Beth think Zowie was some sort of maid she could boss around or something? She didn't mind doing favours, but Beth? She didn't quite fall into the ratio of people Zowie would help gladly in any given circumstance. And two, because one quick glance in Beth’s direction told her that eating wasn’t one of her priorities.

But regardless of how hilarious Beth’s words had sounded, the sting in them still hit home, and laughing was the last thing in Zowie’s mind. Although the scenery Seville presented around her was beautiful, and that the cobblestone of the narrow, medieval street they were visiting could prove to be hazardous, she still closed her eyes and counted to ten. When Zowie reached that number, however, she realised nothing had changed. The murderous instincts that compelled her to jump on Beth's frail frame and throttle her to death were still very much there, so she decided to go up to fifty, just in case.

Clenching her hands into fists so tight her fingernails left half-moon shaped marks on the tender flesh of her palms, Zowie took a deep breath. Keeping her cool wasn’t easy, but reminding herself why she put up with Beth and, more importantly, _who_ she did that for certainly did the trick. Yes, she had made a promise to Orlando. Yes, she had made incredible progress. But boy was it hard to keep true to her word when being the constant target of Beth’s taunts!

Having never been mild-tempered in her life, Zowie’s instincts begged her to take matters on her own two hands, but a quick glance in Orlando's direction was enough to cool her most irrational and impulsive thoughts off. There was a deep frown darkening his features and his lips were tight and tense, and he looked just as uncomfortable, if not even more so, than Zowie herself. She wasn’t going to ruin Orlando’s day off by saying something, but it was rewarding to realise that Beth was doing it perfectly fine all on her own.

“Zowie isn't your maid or your employee, Beth. If you're hungry, you can always go and get something _yourself._ ”

The moment Orlando spoke those words, Zowie felt all the inconveniences she had put up with until then vanishing in thin air. He was defending her. _Her_ , not Beth, and her joy was such, she wanted to jump up and down like a kid. All the taunts and the harsh words crumbled like ash in the wind, and suddenly, accepting Orlando's invitation didn't seem like the worst idea ever anymore. The sudden reddening of anger touching Beth's cheeks helped too, but Zowie wasn't going to point that out.

“She could still help, though.” Beth carried on, as if not satisfied with knowing that Orlando's patience was running thinner than ever before. “She speaks Spanish.”

Zowie rolled her eyes, thinking that if Beth ever dared to look beyond her bellybutton, she might notice that not everything was the way she imagined.

“I don't speak Spanish.” Zowie said pointedly, her eyes fixed on the busy street ahead as she dodged passers-by. “I can only say _hola_ and _gracias_.”

“Isn't that enough?” Beth retorted, offended.

Zowie arched an eyebrow. Despite the pleased warmth Orlando’s words had wrapped around her heart, the anger was still there, simmering in the background.

“Go ahead and try. Say _hola_ and _gracias_ to anyone in those cafés and see what you get in return.”

When Beth parted her lips to say something – surely something rude and annoying –, Orlando stopped in his tracks. He gave his girlfriend such an icy cold stare, that Zowie thanked God it wasn't directed at her.

“Enough, Beth.” Deceivingly soft, his words were velvet barely concealing the sharpest blade underneath. “Enough.”

There must have been something in her boyfriend’s eyes that did the trick, for Beth spent the next minutes in silence as they resumed walking. Nothing more was said about food or anything else, and Zowie saw that as a confirmation of her theory: having never been hungry, Beth had been merely testing the waters, looking for a way to break Zowie and bend her to her will.

They continued walking, and despite the wave of bitter cold they could feel coming from Beth, Orlando and Zowie managed to enjoy the sights around. While Zowie had been to Europe with her family before, she had never been to Seville, and the Moorish influence immediately caught her eye. From the horseshoe-shaped arches that gave entry to beautiful buildings, to the geometric patterns in tiles or ironwork she could see on walls, the Arab mark was everywhere, and she was glad she had accepted Orlando’s invitation. Seville would be their home for only a few days before they moved on to Morocco, and although Zowie really looked forward to the desert experience, she was also keen on enjoying everything Spain had to offer.

Every once in a while, however, she couldn’t help but cast a quick glance in Orlando's direction. There was tension on his shoulders and his eyes, wary and concerned, threw quick glances around, signs that made her grimace for Zowie knew exactly what Orlando was thinking. How long would pass until a fan spotted him? There had been such hype surrounding him, that he needed some time to unwind and relax. That day Seville could have helped, but Beth was ruining it all.

An almost unstoppable urge of hugging him hit Zowie with the power of a lightning, one that rivalled with the need to throttle Beth. How could she do this to him? As much as Zowie disliked the thought, Beth _was_ Orlando’s girlfriend. What woman did this willingly to the man she was supposed to love? Couldn’t she see he needed peace and quiet, and not petty demands and an annoying behaviour?

Zowie didn’t realise how long she spent staring at Orlando until he suddenly turned to her with a curious glow in his brown eyes. Locking eyes for a long second, her heart stopped beating when her love for him flowed freely inside her. The moment he smiled at her and his eyes lit up with a spark she knew so well, warmth filled every inch of Zowie’s body, prompting her to smile back.

Was it just her, or had some of the tension just eased off of Orlando’s shoulders, making his stance a little lighter? An idea bloomed in her mind, one that sent joy bubbling inside her. _She_ was the one that made him feel better, Zowie realised, not Beth, and the thought made her want to throw her arms around him and kiss him like she had always desired. She couldn’t, though, so instead she contented herself by subtly taking his hand in hers and giving it a strong, reassuring squeeze. Words almost stumbled out of her mouth, words Zowie barely managed to control. Mindful of Beth standing a few steps away, Zowie looked up at Orlando adoringly, hoping the message was clear in her eyes. When his smile broadened and his hand squeezed hers, Zowie’s heart sang.

But then, as if noticing something was going she wasn't a part of, Beth shattered the magic Zowie and Orlando had created.

“I'm getting something to drink. Wait _here_.”

Her tone was clear: either she was obeyed, or there would be trouble. For a fleeting instant, Zowie considered taking a hold of Orlando's hand, running away, and leaving Beth to her own devices, but she resisted. Instead, a small, rather evil smile played on her lips. Like she had said before, _hola_ and _gracias_ wouldn't take Beth very far, and to be honest, she was dying to see the outcome of Beth’s adventures with the Spanish language. That, and the fact that she didn't want to bring any more trouble upon Orlando.

His thoughts must have been walking down a very similar path, for when he looked down at her, Zowie could see a spark of mirth in his eyes. Smiling at him and shaking her head with all the regret she felt in her heart, Zowie crossed her arms over her chest. Orlando inched closer to her and his hand came to a rest on her arm, its heat bringing pleasant shivers to her body.

“Are you having a good time? Despite... all this?” Orlando's voice sounded so uncertain, Zowie hated it. He was supposed to be having a good time, not going through a torture!

“The city is lovely, that's for sure.” Zowie said and then, looking up at him, she went on. “I _am_ having a good time, but you're the one who's supposed to use this day to relax and do things you want to do, not... this. If you want to go back to the hotel, I'll understand. I wouldn't mind, so don't drag this out just because of me.”

Stunned and silent, Orlando studied Zowie. Her eyes shone blue and clear, and her honest face showed every bit of the determination that had tinted her previous words. She was ready to do whatever was best for him, and the thought that she could stop their tour simply because he wasn’t having a good time was a sobering and confusing thought. Zowie was enjoying herself, how could Orlando allow her to stop that just because of what he wanted? How could he make her pay for his own mistakes? He was the one who should deal with Beth, not her. It would be incredibly selfish of him to even whisper the words Zowie was waiting to hear, for he had no doubt that she would jump in a taxi and head back to the hotel if he did as much as saying so.

Knowing Zowie was willing to do whatever it took to make him happy was both exhilarating and terrifying. Her support made Orlando feel powerful, but at the same time, it brought a fear to his heart that made him weak and scared. He didn't deserve it. Orlando had never done a single thing to earn such devotion! If anything, he had probably done a thousand things that had had, whether consciously or not, the intention of killing that same feeling.

But it had survived nonetheless, and the way Zowie stared up at him with unguarded eyes brought a strong sense of vulnerability to Orlando's heart. She was loyal and understanding, and although he wasn’t entirely sure he deserved it, the feeling disarmed him in such way, all he could do was take her in his arms like he had wanted to do for a long, long time.

What else could Zowie do, but gasp in utter shock when his strong arms slid around her waist? She had prepared herself for many things, but this hadn’t appeared on her list. She didn't think that volunteering to go back to the hotel could prompt such reaction, but well, if that was the case, she wouldn’t be the one to question it. Circling his neck with her arms, one of Zowie’s hands tangled itself in Orlando’s curls as her body was assaulted by the sensations his closeness brought to her.

He smelled so good! Lightly, Zowie nuzzled his neck, and when a tiny shiver coursed his body, her smile widened. Inhaling deeply, she allowed his scent to intoxicate her as her hands, curious and adventurous, revelled on the softness of Orlando’s skin and hair. His muscles, firm after exercising so much, formed plains and angles that fit wonderfully against her body, bringing a soft tingle to her belly. There had been a time when Zowie had idolised a boy thinking him a man. Now, as he stood pressed tightly against her, she could see the error in her ways. Tall, strong, and warm, there was something irresistibly attractive in Orlando that touched Zowie deep inside, in ways Matt had always failed to.

With no little annoyance, Zowie kicked the intrusive image of her ex-boyfriend out of her mind. At the same time, she gave in to the urge of posing a feather-like kiss on Orlando's neck, right over the rapid pulse of his beating heart.

God, if only Zowie knew what those innocent kisses, what her sole touch did to him! A shiver rippled all throughout Orlando’s body, filling him with a warmth as intense as no other before.

They had always been close. Even in the past, when Orlando had tried hard to control his most unruly emotions, the physicality had always been there. A touch of hands, a seemingly harmless hug... Orlando now realised how those apparently innocent gestures had masked something he had so intently tried to conceal. He tried to rein it again now, but whatever it was that had changed inside him, it only made finding self-control a battle already lost. Soon, all thoughts of gratitude that had prompted him to hug her fled, replaced by the kind of thoughts a healthy young man such as himself would invariably have when holding a beautiful young girl like Zowie in his arms.

“What the hell is going on here? Let go of him, you slut!”

Although the dream-like web that surrounded Zowie was cruelly shattered by a loud, sharp female voice, it was the vice-like grip and the painful bite of nails in her forearm what made her cry out in surprise and pain. Abandoning her cherished spot in Orlando’s arms, she was ready to snap at whoever dared to bring her fantasy come true to an end.

“Hey!” Zowie’s lips parted to say more, but she was cut short when her arm was given a cruel tug, hard enough to rip her away from Orlando's body; his arm around her waist was the only thing that remained. Stunned but ready to snap, her gaze moved up from the thin, bony hand only to find a pair of pale blue eyes that burnt with a fire so intense, she gasped.

“I knew it!” screamed Beth, not paying the least bit of attention to the people that eyed them curiously and that began to whisper around them. No language barrier would be enough to conceal what was happening there, Zowie realised; with Beth trying to peel her away from Orlando, the image spoke volumes. “I knew you were just waiting for the perfect chance to jump him. I just never imagined you'd do it right in front of me. You're a slut, Zowie... a slut!”

Shocked out of her mind, Zowie fell silent for some long seconds. There was no denying that idea had been in her mind all along, but stooping as low as Beth accused her of? Never! If Zowie was going to win Orlando, then she would do it by showing him how different she was to Beth, not by jumping into bed with him! Besides, whatever it was that had prompted that hug, Zowie was sure it had a lot more to do with Beth's own attitude than with any of her own plans finally working out.

“You're mad!” She exclaimed, and although her voice was louder than usual, it was still a far cry from Beth's past exclamations. “You have no idea what’s going on here. Can't you see you're making your boyfriend's life a living hell? Orlando needs to relax, and all you’ve done since we left the hotel is nag, nag, nag. Can you really blame him for turning to the one person here that actually understands him?”

At that, Beth let out a short, stern laugh. When her grip on Zowie’s arm tightened, the latter tried to free herself, but discovered Beth was surprisingly strong for someone so small.

“I suppose that makes you a saint, then.” Beth scoffed and Zowie's body stiffened at the derisive action. “Selfless Zowie, always doing what's best for others without even worrying about herself. You're surely earning your place in Heaven, that I can tel.” As if the words weren't bitter, hateful and hurtful enough, the sarcastic laugh that escaped her lips was a sound like Zowie had never heard before. It rolled down her skin like ice, leaving goose bumps where it touched her, and Beth's pale blue eyes, purposefully wide and innocent, gave her a look that left no room for mistakes. There wasn't a single hint of humour left in them as they began to shoot daggers at her. “Admit it, Zowie. If you have any pride, that's it. You're after my boyfriend and you've always had. The fact that Orlando's too blind to see it doesn't mean we're all as stupid as he is!”

Zowie's eyes widened, and she physically felt all colour draining from her face as a cold wave that began in her head and ended in her toes, chilled her whole. Beth knew about her feelings for Orlando? How…?

“Don't look so surprised.” Beth carried on, taunting her. “Do you honestly think no one notices the way you follow him around like a stupid puppy, how you practically drool whenever he's around? Everyone knows, Zowie. _Everyone._ And guess what? They all laugh at you too. We all do, in fact. You following my boyfriend around like an idiotic, infatuated teenager is probably the biggest source of amusement on set every day.”

The words hit Zowie like a powerful blow to her stomach. Intent on her feelings for Orlando, she had never stopped to wonder how others perceived her, or what they thought of her actions. She had always been sure she had kept things as discreet and subtle as she possibly could, but what if that wasn't the case? What if, in her attempts to win Orlando, to spend every minute with him, Zowie had only managed to come across as clingy and immature? And what if Beth was right, and they all laughed at her and the way she acted? But what seemed even more nightmarish... what if Orlando was one of them?

Panic struck her. It couldn't be like that, not with the way he had hugged her! Orlando couldn't be faking that gesture or many others he had directed at her in the past weeks, not in such a believable way! Still, the fear that he could feel if only one bit of those things Beth talked about filled Zowie with a fear that gripped her heart in a vice grip.

She wasn't sure what she was going to say, but desperate to retaliate and defend herself, she parted her lips. She was ready to let the first words that came to mind tumble out hoping they caused some effect on Beth, but she never got to utter them. Not with the way Orlando interrupted her.

“Enough, Beth! Shut the hell up, for God's sake!”

Shocked, Zowie's blue eyes moved until they stumbled with Orlando's furious face, and whatever it was that she was about to say died on the spot when the anger darkening his eyes silenced her. She had never seen him so furious before, and with surprise written on her face, she could only stare at him. Beth too did the same, but in her case, incredulity was etched in her every feature.

“But, Orlando-” Beth began to say, as if not truly getting the seriousness of what Orlando had in mind. She cut herself mid-sentence, however, when he reached for her hand and easily, effortlessly, freed Zowie from its steely grip. For a moment, Zowie feared he had hurt the other girl in any way, but when Beth didn't even blink and only stared at him with plain disbelief showing in her features, she allowed herself a little sigh of relief.

“I've had enough, Beth.” Orlando then said, his arm tightening around Zowie. “I swear I've tried. I've put up with a lot... a lot! But I'm not going to let you insult Zowie like this.” With a sigh, he added. “You're just not the person you used to be, and this new Beth, honestly... I can't stand her.”

Orlando had no idea what it was that had made him, at last, speak his mind, but now that his thoughts had finally found a voice, he felt relieved and encouraged. Beth had overstepped a boundary thinking Orlando would allow her to, but no more. Especially not when she was using Zowie to unleash the fury _he_ had awakened in her.

Shocked, Beth stared up at him with wide eyes.

“Wait a minute... are you breaking up with me... over _her_?”

“Zowie is a part of it, yes.” Orlando's admittance brought an angry red to Beth's cheeks. “She's my friend and I've known her for far too long to let you say those things to her. We've always been like this, don't you get it? And the fact that you never even took the time to try and get along with her only goes to show how selfish you really are. Why couldn't you? Zowie did. Zowie tried to get along with you or at least be civil, but the better she acted, the worse you became, and I’ve finally had enough. I can't be dealing with your everyday drama when I'm supposed to be concentrating on making a movie!”

The play of emotions on Beth's face was almost bewitching, and Zowie found it impossible to tear her eyes from it. The only thing that made it less attractive was the certainty that, sooner or later, it would backfire on her. And that it would hit her in the cruellest, meanest possible way.

In the end, shock gave way to anger, and Beth's face darkened with a furious frown as she spat the words.

“She's a junkie, Orlando! A fucking junkie who is besotted with you!”

Zowie gasped, and her surprise was so enormous, she never felt how Orlando pulled her closer to him, as if wanting to defend her from the poison that coated Beth's words. A cold numbness ran inside her, threatening to take over her if she didn't fight it, and it took every ounce of her willpower to keep it at bay.

Yes, Zowie was an addict, but although she had never hid that fact, she didn’t go around flaunting it either. Right before joining Geoff for the pre-movie training in Los Angeles, they had talked about it and had come to a conclusion. While the important people, like producers and such, should be informed of her condition and her intentions of getting better, there was no need to make a public statement addressed to her future co-workers. If eventually Zowie came to trust someone enough to let them into her life that way, then she would tell them, but while she had a good relationship with everyone, she didn't feel she could trust any of them the way she trusted Orlando. That’s why she never talked about it.

But Beth knew, and it sickened her. How did she? There was only one option and her eyes, wide and scared, fixed themselves on Orlando. Had he...? Zowie prayed the Lord above to be mistaken when the thought crossed her mind. Although her trust in Orlando was complete, the evidence before her spoke for itself.

“I didn't tell her, Zow... I swear to God it wasn't me!” Orlando vehemently defended himself when he caught the look Zowie was giving him. Pain darkened his eyes at the thought that she could even consider such thing, and it sparked the anger inside him. Pulling Zowie close, Orlando turned to Beth with fury burning inside him. “Don't you _ever_ talk about Zowie that way again, you hear me?” There was a note so cold and stern in Orlando's voice, Zowie couldn't repress the shiver that touched her back. Beth, however, wasn't so affected, and she stared back at Orlando showing absolutely no regret for her previous words. “You have no idea how things are between us, you never even cared! Zowie is my friend and she needs me, and if it comes to a point when I have to choose between you and her, then I'll choose Zowie, because you're not the person I thought you were anymore.”

Beth's surprise was brief, and the slight widening of her eyes disappeared the moment she, posing her fists on her hips, sketched the cruellest smile Zowie had ever seen on her lips so far. And she had seen a lot.

“Yes, Orlando. Keep on telling that to yourself. It might even come true at one point.” Zowie's body stiffened, knowing that the next words to leave Beth's mouth would surely be even more poisonous than those she had already spat out during their argument. Orlando, too, felt that way, for the arm around her waist became as hard as granite. It never hurt her, but Zowie knew he too was preparing himself for the worse. “You want to know the way things _truly_ are? You're lying to yourself. You're just as obsessed with Zowie as she is with you and right now, I'm not sure whether she needs you, or the other way around.”

Orlando's skin paled at those words, and Beth's evil smile told him his reaction had pleased her enormously. He had been extremely careful not to make his confused emotions obvious to his girlfriend, but it was evident that he hadn’t succeeded. All the time he had been aware that, should Beth ever find out what he felt for Zowie, she would destroy her to pieces. And he had been right. Beth knew her time was coming to an end, but if she was going down, then she would make damn sure to take everyone down with her as well.

“Why are you doing this, Beth?” Orlando's voice was soft, but there was no denying the steel that softness barely managed to conceal.

Zowie looked up at him. Why was he giving Beth another chance? Did he honestly want her to poison them even more? In her chest, her heart thundered with a mix of fear, anticipation and joy. She knew Beth's words weren't something she should believe in completely, but how could she ignore them when they spoke the sentiments Zowie had had in her heart for years? Beth had said Orlando needed Zowie just as much as she needed him herself. That he didn't want to be apart from her, even when he had a girlfriend. Wasn't that what Zowie had waited to hear from the moment she had met him? The shadow cast over her, however, was Beth's sole fault. Those revelations, if true, had been tainted by her hatred, and Zowie felt she couldn't let her hopes built up too high, not when they could crumble in a way that would leave her in pieces Zowie wasn't sure she could pick up.

Before answering, Beth gave them both a long, thorough look. The way Orlando protected Zowie didn't go unnoticed to her, and it poked at her wounded pride even further. If her own boyfriend decided to humiliate her in public, then so would she. And she would take it against the one person Orlando seemed to care about the most, the one she had seen him holding hands with when they thought she wasn't looking some minutes ago.

Zowie.

“Because Zowie here deserves to know the truth. That's why.” She said, mustering an innocent tone in her voice. “Oh please, can’t I give the poor girl some hope? I mean, look at her. She's already a junkie, she's pathetic even if no one dares to tell her so, and she thinks you can do no wrong. She's obviously not all that smart, so why don't give her something to busy her silly little head with? Her very own Cinderella story?”

The words felt like a slap on Zowie's face. She might be shocked, but her brain still functioned properly enough to give Beth some of her own predicament.

“What about you, then? Clinging to your boyfriend with all your might even though you know perfectly well he doesn't love you? That he can't stand the sight of you? Where does that leave you and your own silly little head, then? The way I see it, the only pathetic person in this conversation is you.” Taking a deep breath, Zowie went on. “Yes, I'm an addict. Yes, some of my decisions haven't been all that smart, but at least I'm honest. I could walk out of a relationship that wasn't working. But can you?”

Zowie hoped Beth didn't know how hers and Matt's relationship had ended; she just prayed her comment did the trick.

And Beth seemed almost ready to fall for it at one point, but her eyes lit up cunningly a second later.

“Oh, you're not tricking me into that, Zowie. I won't walk away just to prove your point.”

“Perhaps you won't, but I will.” Orlando said suddenly, catching both girls by surprise. “This is over, Beth.”

Both girls stared up at him in awe. Beth, because she couldn't believe her boyfriend was truly breaking up with her, and Zowie, because of the implications in his words. He was single... at last! And he had defended her! That _had_ to mean something, right?

The moment he looked down at her, Zowie needed no words; the invitation in his eyes was clear, and Zowie accepted it with a quick nod. His arm, slipping from around her waist, allowed his hand to fall in hers, and Zowie only had enough time to catch a glimpse of Beth, her face red with fury, as they began to walk away. She also noticed the small crowd gathered around them, trying their hardest to appear inconspicuous, but failing miserably. She had no time to see anything else, though. Quickly, Zowie fell in step with Orlando, and when she realised the enormity of what had just happened, her heart exploded with a joy that pushed everything else to the back of her mind.

Orlando was single. He cared about her. They had at least another four months to spend every day together, and what hadn't worked until then, would finally do it now. Zowie nodded to herself. She would make sure of that.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29.**

 

His trailer was comfortable and had all sort of amenities, but Orlando turned his back on them the moment he decided to stand by the open door, his eyes fixed on the bustle outside. A few metres away, completely oblivious to the pair of dark eyes that studied her intently, Zowie and the rest of Geoff's team went over what he imagined was a choreography staged for the movie. Which one, Orlando didn’t know. There seemed to be no sides in this particular fight, and he could see Zowie sparring with several people, a small, almost mischievous smile on her full lips.

It was that same pleased, almost cocky gesture what gave her away a second later. This was no rehearsal! This was, simply, Geoff’s crew blowing off some steam. With blades, mind you. _Blunt_ blades, of course, but swords nonetheless, and their intensity sent a shiver of dread down Orlando’s spine. He trusted Zowie’s ability a hundred per cent but, what if someone got carried away? He had received enough blows from blunt swords to know exactly how that felt.

Yet, despite his fears, Zowie was obviously having the time of her life. The first time Orlando had seen her sparring with Geoff, he had been amazed at her confidence and at the certainty of her every move. How could he forget the hint of a smile he had noticed in her lips that day? She had looked in her element, as if she had been born to hold a sword in her hand. But he too remembered the way Geoff's sword had stopped barely a whisper away from her throat, and he couldn't help the small burst of anxiety that blossomed inside him.

At least this time she sparred with a girl her size, he noted. His relief, however, vanished when that person was replaced and Zowie, with a smile that reminded Orlando way too much of the one he had seen four years ago, held her sword high, ready to face the enemy. She said something, but he couldn't read her lips from the distance, and he wondered whether she was taunting her opponent. That was Zowie, he mused. She might throw herself head first into everything she did regardless of the outcome, but that passion and determination? That was what he loved about her the most. And she seemed so happy, so free of all worries, that Orlando forced himself to take a deep breath and let his insecurities go. Zowie was happy, and that was all that mattered.

In fact, to be true to himself, Orlando had to admit that Zowie had been in that state for most, if not all, of the past two weeks. Ever since Beth had left and they had opened a door that had given them, so far, nothing but happiness.

Leaning against the door frame, Orlando relaxed his shoulders a little, watching Zowie now sparring with Brian. She was Beth’s complete opposite. While the latter demanded, Zowie understood him, and her joy and enthusiasm made it very easy to be with her. Orlando, having lowered the veil that had clouded his feelings for so long, could now truly admit how much he enjoyed being with her, hugging her and touching her.

But the joy of being with Zowie was the only bright spot in the past weeks.

Orlando had never imagined, not for a minute, that arguing in public with Beth would have such an outcome. He hadn’t thought about it all, actually; the moment Beth attacked Zowie, Orlando knew he had to act. But that public argument with Beth, a long overdue one, had had an outcome he hadn’t anticipated: the news, along with pictures, had hit the Internet almost instantly, and their trip around the world had been quick.

He winced at the thought. Whoever had written the article had portrayed Zowie as being the responsible for bringing the relationship to an end, and that was something he couldn’t accept. He could handle whatever the media threw his way and he was sure Beth could too, but Zowie? She had tried to discard the whole thing with a shrug, yes, but Orlando hadn’t missed the sudden pallor of her face when seeing the pictures of them hugging intimately in Seville. Then, to make matters even worse, pictures of a sunglasses-clad, appropriately devastated looking Beth arriving in Los Angeles had followed, compromising Zowie’s position even further.

Needless to say, thanks to the paparazzi, Orlando’s last days in Spain were a complete nightmare he would much rather forget. After a month in the country he was hardly a novelty anymore, but the news? They had brought him back to the spotlight, making him the most interesting target at the moment.

In their quest for a picture of him and Zowie together that confirmed their relationship, photographers followed him everywhere, popping out of the strangest places. Luckily, they had only managed to snap a blurry picture or two of Zowie on her own, and little next to no background information had been revealed. For that, Orlando counted his blessings; had her addiction been mentioned, it would have been disastrous. He shivered at the thought. God knew Zowie deserved more than that, and they both needed to be happy and relaxed if they wanted to achieve any sort of normalcy in their relationship.

Not that there was any formal _relationship_ to begin with, Orlando mused. The breach between friendship and something completely different was slowly closing, but Orlando had no intention of hurrying the process up. He liked the way things were at the moment. He liked being able to hold Zowie in a way he hadn't allowed himself before. He loved having her close and above all, he liked knowing that Zowie was true and honest, because that was exactly what he needed at that point in his life.

Orlando too knew all the dark secrets that there were to know about her: her dad, her addiction, her life with Matt, and still wanted her around, because none of that changed how he felt for her. None of that stopped him from feeling that, in a world where relationships were sometimes created to promote movies and help propel careers, Zowie cared nothing about those things. She didn't want a public life, didn't want a career in acting, didn't want to promote herself through Orlando. Zowie only wanted him, the man, not the actor, and that was something Orlando had been, without knowing, looking for a long, long time.

He was all that mattered, Zowie had said. He was the reason why she put up with everything, and knowing that had liberated Orlando. All those feelings he had repressed for so long were now free, making it possible for him to put up with, not just the press, but also with the severe warning he had got from the producers _and_ director of the movie. It was too much unwanted attention, they had said. With the tension in the Middle East, and even though Morocco was a peaceful country, bringing the production there entailed some risks that didn’t need to be increased by journalists and paparazzi camping around. They couldn’t afford security issues, they had said.

With that in mind, a warning had been issued: if having Zowie around was the source of the problem, then they would have to consider letting her go. If he got distracted or problems arose regarding the media, then Zowie's fate was sealed. Needless to say, having her leaving the production was something Orlando wished to avoid at all costs.

Nonetheless, and although many warnings dangled over their heads, Orlando refused to stop spending time with Zowie. They still trained together, walked around the set together and she still visited his trailer _and_ house often. Difference was, they tried to be as discreet and professional as they could while in public. That self-imposed distance, however, was having a side effect Orlando hadn't counted on: the tension mounting between them electrified them whenever they touched.

He knew Zowie felt it too. Orlando could see it in her eyes, and it made it so hard for him not to take her in his arms and kiss her the way he truly desired to. It was in moments like those that Orlando was ready to throw all caution to the wind, if only to be able to kiss her just once. It was only when he realised that another day had passed and they had given the paparazzi no pictures to sell and publish, that the effort was well worth it.

But it wasn’t just that. Yes, his need to protect Zowie was strong, but knowing she might as well not be ready to jump into anything serious also kept him at bay. First, there was her recovery. She was doing great, but Orlando knew all about her fears of relapsing. Then, as if that wasn't hard enough, Zowie also came from a dark, twisted relationship with a guy who had, amongst other things, tried to kill her. How could she possibly be ready to even think of a relationship in the first place?

The weight of everything that was going on was heavy on Orlando's shoulders as, in the distance, Geoff’ group disbanded. It was all his fault. Had he made things perfectly clear with Beth long before that afternoon, he and Zowie would now have the chance to enjoy the time given to them without so much tension and worries in their hearts. With Zowie fearing her secret would be displayed in big bold letters and with Orlando terrified that she could leave, it was a miracle she even wanted to be anywhere near him. That was why, in return for her loyalty, Orlando offered Zowie the one thing he imagined she needed the most: time. Regardless of how much his own being craved for more.

Besides, there was also the Geoff factor to be dealt with too, Orlando mused with a grin as his eyes fell on the man that, deep in conversation with Zowie, was completely unaware of his attention. This man, who was in no way related to Zowie, had done so much for her, much more than Orlando himself ever could, that he would be forever indebted to him. What would have happened, hadn’t Geoff ran into her in the streets? Dread tap-danced down Orlando’s spine at the thought. It was Geoff who got Zowie away from Matt, who got her back on track and who, eventually, saved her life. Without his help, Orlando would have never met Zowie again, and that alone made Geoff the one person Orlando would listen to as far as her wellbeing was concerned.

Not that Geoff had been very accommodating with the exposure of Zowie, something he solely blamed Orlando for but, could he blame him? He wanted to protect her at all cost, and that protection included a very serious talk with Orlando regarding the closeness developing between them. The sole thought brought a grimace to Orlando’s face. While talking to Geoff the friend, the coach and occasional advisor was very, very easy, talking to Zowie’s surrogate father wasn’t.

There hadn’t been a single time in his life, when Orlando had felt as uncomfortable as he had during that conversation with Geoff. He knew the man and knew they could talk about everything, but discussing his feelings for Zowie? That was anything but easy. He hadn't lied when telling Geoff that his intentions were nothing but the most honourable, but still, having _that_ kind of talk with him was something Orlando never wanted to do again in his life. He understood Geoff's interest, yes, but answering some of his most prodding questions had left him feeling like an embarrassed sixteen-year-old.

Suddenly, the sight of two people moving with determination towards him brought Orlando back to the present, and a smile touched his lips as his eyes fell on Zowie. She and Geoff walked side by side, and there was no doubt as to what they were talking about; gestures of blocking and lunges left no room for mistake. With those two loving their job so much, was there something else they talked about, other than sword fighting? The answer required little next to none deliberation: they probably didn’t. When Zowie looked up at him and smiled upon discovering him studying her, however, all thoughts flew from his mind.

“Hey.” Zowie greeted him as she and Geoff stopped next to the small steps that led up to Orlando's trailer.

Still smiling, she looked up at him, her blue eyes twinkling as the desert sun slipped under the black cap she wore. Even though it was winter, the Moroccan sun was strong enough to colour her skin, and healthy as she was, the golden hue brought the old Zowie back, making the blue of her eyes all the more noticeable. But regardless of its convenience in that aspect, the cap also served as another item of the wardrobe the women of the production had been advised to wear, including long sleeves and trousers at all times.

Patting Geoff's shoulder as a greeting, Orlando offered the man a smile and then descended the steps, coming to a halt next to Zowie. His hand, almost with a will of its own, found hers and gave it a soft squeeze. He hated having to let it go, but he did in the end, his fingers brushing hers as they parted.

“What was that?” He asked, genuine interest marking his features. “Is that the way you sword people unwind?”

Zowie's smile widened at his comment, and slipping her training gloves in the pocket of her trousers, she then folded her arms over her chest, inching closer to Orlando.

“Sort of. Geoff here thought we were getting a bit rusty and wanted us to do something different.”

“You should join us next time.” Geoff piped in and Orlando laughed.

“As if I had a _chance_ to get rusty! It's a miracle I get to go home every night as it is.”

“Not for long.” Geoff hurried to point out with a hint of evil in his smile. “Soon you'll begin shooting the night scenes and, well...”

Orlando groaned. It wasn't the first time he did night scenes that lasted an eternity. In fact, not one came even close to the record the Battle of Helm's Deep held in Orlando's books, but that didn’t mean he got any more used to it as time passed.

“Yeah, I suppose I'll have to enjoy my nights while I still can. Which reminds me, want to come over and have dinner with me tonight?”

Orlando mentally patted himself in the back at how smoothly he had handled that. Inviting Zowie over had been in his mind ever since he came out of the trailer, before he got lost in thought. Having Geoff around when he did so hadn’t been in his plans though, but since the older man was there, Orlando tried his best to ignore the look he was giving him. He knew Geoff meant well. He wanted to protect Zowie at all cost, and if that included protecting her from Orlando, then that he would do.

Zowie's eyes lit up at his words, a broad smile illuminating her features.

“Sure.” She answered enthusiastically before her face darkened with a small frown. “You'll have to give me some time, though. I need to go back to the hotel and take a shower.” Looking up at Orlando, she added. “Perhaps you could pick me up there?”

“I'll take you there.” Geoff said before Orlando even had a chance to open his mouth. “And then I'll pick you up later on. We have an early morning tomorrow, so I'm afraid you won't be able to stay there long.”

For a moment, Orlando couldn’t decide who that warning was addressed to. To Zowie, to remind her of the work she had to do, or to Orlando himself, to let him know there was no way Zowie was spending the night with him?

Sighing in defeat, Zowie gave Orlando a rather sad look.

“Offer still up?”

Orlando nodded.

“Of course. I'll be waiting for you.”

When Geoff and Zowie said their goodbyes shortly after that, the smile that he and Zowie shared didn't go unnoticed to Geoff, and the look he gave Orlando told him so. Orlando was determined to show the man that he could be trusted, and if spending only a few hours with Zowie did the trick, then he would do it anyway. Giving the older man a quick nod, Orlando entered his trailer, and although he knew he would be getting back to work in a few minutes, he still busied himself with plans, trying to imagine the best way to make that night one they would always remember.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30.**

 

Driving through the desert was an experience Geoff enjoyed immensely, especially at that time of the day. The sun was just beginning to set and its orange glow touched everything, giving the landscape around the car a magical quality that was delightful to watch. The usual yellows and light browns of the sand and the mountains rolling in the distance became oranges and reds, and what little wind there was outside barely managed to agitate the peace of that untouched landscape. It was a sight that usually put Geoff's mind at ease and that he took great delight on, but not that day. Not as he drove Zowie to Orlando's house.

The loud sigh escaped him before he could stop it and, next to him, a relaxed Zowie turned her face towards him. Large sunglasses covered her eyes, but the questioning and intrigued expression that coloured her face demanded an explanation Geoff wasn’t sure he knew how to give. His best effort produced an apologetic smile and a light shrug of his shoulders that seemed to suffice Zowie, for she returned the smile before turning her attention to the landscape rolling outside the car.

At that, Geoff’s fingers gripped the wheel so tight, he was sure they left tiny imprints on the leather. He didn't like this. He didn't like the way the evening had turned out, nor how it had slipped from his control with a mere few words spoken outside Orlando's trailer. It was confusing to feel that way, frustrating even but, could he feel any differently? _He_ was the one who saw Zowie at her worse. _He_ was the one to see her lying on a hospital bed, having barely escaped death at the hands of her boyfriend. How could Geoff not dread the outcome, when she was willingly putting herself in the hands of another man?

He felt ripped inside, torn between rationality and the protective urges that prodded at him. Had he taken the time to think things through, he would have admitted a fact that was blatantly undeniable: Orlando was, indeed, a good guy. He was responsible, had matured a lot since the last time Geoff had seen him and, above all, he had gone out of his way to help Zowie when she needed him the most. And yet, he would have liked nothing more than to turn the car around and go back the way they came with Zowie still safe in the passenger's seat. Regardless of Orlando’s best intentions, some things had still got out of his control, and the Beth debacle was the perfect example of that.

Geoff had seen it coming. He had hated Orlando for keeping his girlfriend a secret, yes, but had then loathed him when finding out how Zowie had handled the news. She was still vulnerable and Orlando was the centre of her world, what if she went back to her old habits because of the pain and confusion she felt? But then, and only God knew how, Zowie and Orlando had made up, and something began to develop between them, something no one could ignore, especially not Beth. Something that had, ultimately, led to a very public breakup in Seville had caught Zowie in the very middle of the storm it unleashed.

Geoff would never forgive Orlando for thoughtlessly exposing Zowie that way. He knew the argument hadn’t been planned, and that Orlando hadn’t meant for it to be so public, but Geoff still wished he could have been more careful about it. In the end, Zowie had ended up being portrayed as _the other woman,_ the evil woman that had seduced Orlando, and that infuriated Geoff. He knew Zowie and how manipulative she could be, but for her to verbally induce Orlando to dump Beth? That wasn’t her. Whatever Zowie had done to win Orlando back, he surely had been the most willing participant ever.

Needless to say, avoiding the paparazzi and the attention hadn’t been easy and it had taken its toll on Zowie. However, it hadn’t been nearly as concerning and sobering as discovering that the adoring looks Zowie gave Orlando were returned with the same intensity.

Geoff had promised to take care of Zowie but, how could he protect her from the one thing she wanted the most? He had seen her back in New Zealand, had seen and heard all about William's inability to keep her away from Orlando. Truth be told, the actor had been nothing but a good friend back then, putting a damper on each and every one of Zowie's efforts, but what now, when he seemed to want exactly the same thing? What if what Zowie wanted so badly turned out to be the one thing that hurt her the most? The warning Orlando had got had been perfectly clear: one more strike, and Zowie was out, and that was something Geoff couldn't allow. He couldn’t have her going back to Los Angeles on her own, not with a palpable danger still around. If he had to fight Orlando, keep them apart so Zowie would be safe, then Geoff would.

And then, to top it all, there was another fact that concerned Geoff in a way that both angered him and made him feel uncomfortable: the sex. He blushed at the thought. That was a side of Zowie's and Orlando's relationship he shouldn't even be thinking of, but he still couldn't help but care. On one hand, he felt silly about it; after all, they were both adults and surely knew what they were doing. But on the other hand, a worry nagged at the back of his mind. What if it happened? What would be the outcome of it? And what if Zowie ended up more hurt than before? Matt had hurt her physically, yes, and those scars could vanish with time. But if things went wrong with Orlando, how long would it take for the wounds in her heart to heal?

Geoff mentally shook his head, trying fruitlessly to discard his concern. It was ridiculous. Did he really think that two hours would really stop anything from happening at all? He wasn’t stupid. Geoff too had been in his twenties once, and knew perfectly well that, where there was a will, there was always a way to work things out. He just would have to trust Zowie, and Orlando too, for that matter. Problem was, he wasn't entirely sure which one to turn to. At the end of the day, Geoff only had one certainty: a relationship between Orlando and Zowie could only turn one way - either really, really good, or really, really bad.

The apprehension coiling inside him brought a sudden stiffness to Geoff's fingers as he manoeuvred the wheel, leading the car out of the N10 and into a well signalled side road. While the crew stayed in Ouarzazate and close to the Atlas Studios where they worked every day, the actors lived in a private housing development twenty kilometres eastwards. Isolated from everything, Geoff was willing to bet it had the best view of the Al-Mansour Ad-Dahbi Lake and the mountains beyond. Not that it surprised him, though; large, luxurious, and obviously very expensive as it was, it was only natural that the developers would choose the best site available for it. As natural as it was for the production to pick those houses for the cast, given the privacy they offered.

Orlando's house itself, above all, had a view Geoff wouldn't mind waking up to every single morning. Elegantly decorated and spacious, it had large windows that overlooked the surrounding area and let the sun in. One in particular caught everyone’s eye: connecting the living room with a pool outside so close to the lake they seemed to be connected, it offered an impressive view of the mountains on the opposite shore. Orlando claimed to love the peace and quiet of the house, and that his job was the only thing that could drag him out. It could get lonely at times too, though, he had said, and hadn’t Geoff been there, Zowie would have most likely offered herself to keep him company at all times.

Geoff sighed. She would never understand any of that, he guessed, not for as long as Orlando was the centre of her world. And now, as she smoothed inexistent creases from her clothes and ran her fingers through her hair, her eagerness and impatience pushed the words out of his mouth before he could even think of stopping them.

“I know this is probably something I shouldn't even be getting myself into, Zow, but... I'm not comfortable with the idea of you being there tonight. Not at all.”

Although shocked, Zowie had to admit that, deep down inside, she had been expecting something like this. Geoff had been fidgety and tense for the past twenty minutes, and the fact that he was letting it all out was almost a relief. What he truly meant, however, escaped her.

“What are you talking about?” Zowie asked, and her confusion grew when Geoff shifted in his seat and his hands gripped the wheel even tighter than before.

“Can I be honest with you? I mean, completely honest?”

“Have you ever been otherwise?”

Zowie smiled teasingly, but the hint of uncertainty in her smile made Geoff feel he was opening a can of worms. Taking a deep breath, he said.

“I'm just not sure I like where this is going, Zowie.”

She could only blink.

“Where _what_ is going? Geoff, I'm lost here. What are you talking about?” Turning in her seat, Zowie stared squarely at him, wanting a straight answer for once and for all.

“I'm talking about you and Orlando. You two... I'm not blind, you know? Ever since Orlando broke up with Beth you two have got closer and closer. Don't get me wrong, that's not essentially bad.” He hurried to add. “I'm just not sure I'm entirely comfortable with the direction you guys are taking.”

Zowie's lips parted in shock. Her first instinct was to fight back and defend her feelings, but then decided against it, choosing to remain silent instead. So Geoff _had_ noticed. That wasn't bad, she mused. He was, apart from Orlando, the only person Zowie trusted in, and he would have needed to be told sooner or later. What did surprise her, however, was the uneasiness the idea brought him.

“Geoff, you have no idea how much I appreciate your concern and believe me, you're probably the only person I'd willingly listen to about, well... _anything_ , but I feel happy now, happier than I've felt in years.” There was such wistfulness in Zowie's voice that Geoff's heart ached and all of a sudden, the selfishness of his concern became painfully obvious to him, drowning him in guilt. God knew Geoff wanted Zowie to be happy, but her wellbeing and stability meant just as much. “I don't want to get too ahead of myself, but wherever this is taking me, I plan to enjoy it for as long as it makes me feel that way. I just thought that you, of all people, would be more supportive of the idea.”

Geoff sighed in defeat. How could he possibly explain his feelings to Zowie without angering her in the process? With complete honesty, he told himself. Exactly what he had asked for.

“I do, Zowie. If you're happy, then I'm happy too. But at the end of the day, I just want to make sure you don't end up hurt, that's all.”

Zowie leaned back on her seat, surprise and dread mixing inside her in the most unpleasant way. This was certainly _not_ what she had expected when Geoff had brought this up, and the feelings growing inside her unsettled her. Did Geoff truly think Orlando could hurt her in any way? And purposefully at that? Knowing Geoff only wanted the best for her was the one thing that kept her anger from bursting out like a freight train.

“Do you honestly think Orlando would do anything to hurt me?”

This was a break it or make it moment, Geoff realised when he cast a quick glance in Zowie’s direction - he either chose his next words very carefully, or he became her worst enemy.

“He's a good guy, I give you that, but even good guys can make mistakes sometimes.” When Zowie stiffened, Geoff hurried to add. “It's not Orlando _per se_ what worries me, okay? Is what surrounds him what concerns me the most.”

Removing her sunglasses, Zowie turned to him, her expression carefully calm as her eyes studied him closely.

“I'm lost again, Geoff.”

He sighed. He had known all along that this conversation would _not_ be easy, but now that the cards were on the table, he better addressed the matter before Zowie's temper rose. Parking the car on the dirt right by the road, Geoff turned sideways to face her, his expression open yet determined.

“Just think about this for a minute, Zowie. Think of all you guys had to go through in Spain. Think of how careful Orlando has to be now so you won't be in trouble. What do you reckon will happen if you two begin a relationship and the press finds out? They'll descend upon you like vultures! Orlando might be able to handle it, but what about you? And what about all the problems something like that could bring to the movie? You only have one chance left, Zowie, and I won't be able to talk them out of sending you back to the States if that happens. Hell, not even Orlando will be able to! Wouldn't that hurt you? Wouldn't leaving Orlando be a nightmare to you, now that you're finally back together?”

All of Zowie’s possibly retorts died in her lips at the power and truth in Geoff’s words. Not a single minute passed by that she didn’t think of the warning that dangled over her head, but there was nothing she wasn’t willing to do to remain by Orlando’s side. She couldn’t leave him, not now that he had finally admitted having feelings for her! If she had to go back to the States and leave Orlando behind… Zowie shivered. She couldn’t wait another four months to be with him, not now! Geoff was right; even if Orlando himself didn’t hurt her, what surrounded him, whether he wanted it or not, certainly could.

Her shoulders heavy with the burden of what Geoff had just said, Zowie sagged against the seat.

“I wish things were easy just this once.”

The pain in her words was so obvious, that the impossibility of what he asked from her hit Geoff like a bucket of ice cold water dumped on his head. He didn't want Zowie hurt, but she deserved to be happy. With a sigh, he cupped her cheek in his hand and sketched a small smile.

“Promise me you will be careful, okay? You have all the time in the world. Soon the interest of the press will die down and before you realise, they will forget all about you. I just don't want to see you exposed to that kind of attention, Zowie, and I don't want you away either. Just... try and think before you act, okay? Just this once?”

The teasing hint in his last words managed to bring a soft, wavering smile to Zowie's lips. Her thinking before jumping into action? Many things wouldn't have happened to her had she taken a minute or two to think things through, she mused. Still, the least she could do was promise Geoff to try, and he received her vow with a wide, relieved smile. Soon, the car was back on the road, and the determination of wanting to be true to her promise grew inside her.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31.**

 

Zowie would never be able to say her determination wasn't strong; as Geoff's car crossed the tall iron gates that separated Orlando's property from the street and curious eyes, her heart was set. Firm and unwavering, the certainty of doing the right thing grew inside her, making her see the truth in Geoff's reasoning. If strong enough, whatever was developing between her and Orlando would survive no matter what, and if that was the price she had to pay in order to be with him, then she would.

Zowie's determination was there when the car stopped in front of Orlando’s door, and even though her heart kept somersaulting with anticipation, she felt in control. The moment said door opened, however, and Orlando came to sight, a happy smile on his lips and looking more handsome than she had ever seen him, Zowie finally understood how truly weak she was.

Realisation hit her so hard that her heart, swollen with the love she felt for that man, almost bled with grief. How could she be able to keep true to her promise to Geoff? How could she even begin to try? Zowie couldn't resist Orlando, and that was a fact that had been sufficiently proved over the years. She had spent the the last four of them wanting no one else but him and not once, during all that time, had the thought of resisting him even crossed her mind. How could she start doing it now?

Guilt, and the urge of jumping into Orlando's arms, fought for every inch inside her. Zowie knew how much Geoff worried about her, how he only wanted the best for her. She intended to be true to her word, but the spark in Orlando's brown eyes as he slowly, yet purposefully, descended the few steps leading to the driveway, was enough to send her determination crumbling to pieces. If only Geoff knew how easy it was for Orlando to make her melt, he would be even less comfortable with the idea of leaving her there at all.

When their eyes met through the window, a little shiver tickled her spine. Not once, in all the time she had known Orlando, had Zowie felt so self-conscious in his presence, so aware of the fact that he was a man, and she was a woman. When Orlando looked at her in a certain way, with a certain gleam in his eye, Zowie lost track of her thoughts, her entire being coming to life in response to that one simple gesture. It was a feeling she had never experienced before, nor with Orlando in New Zealand, and certainly not with Matt in Los Angeles. In the past, Orlando had been always friendly but distant, with the one exception of that night he couldn't remember, and as for Matt, he had never awoken such feelings inside her. There had been attraction, of course, but that burning that began deep inside her and that spread in her veins like a wild fire? Never.

Zowie would never know if Geoff said something in that moment. Lost in the spell of Orlando's dark eyes, there was little else she could do but stare as he approached them, his smile still playing havoc with her thoughts. Did he realise what he was doing to her? His gaze was so intense that Zowie’s fingers fumbled clumsily with her seatbelt before she took a deep breath, aware that Geoff could very well start the car and speed away if he noticed anything odd.

With no little effort, Zowie finally stilled the light trembling of her fingers long enough to unfasten her seatbelt. Giving Orlando a quick smile, she turned to Geoff hoping her face showed none of the turmoil she felt inside.

“9 PM, then?”

Geoff nodded, and although a look of silent understanding passed between them, none of that stopped the pang of guilt that pierced Zowie’s heart. Geoff didn’t deserve to be lied to, but her heart? It couldn’t be denied either.

“Same goes for you, Orlando.” Geoff warned. “Fresh as a daisy tomorrow morning, you hear me?”

Giving him a quick military salute, Orlando acknowledged his advice.

“Be there? Check. Fresh as a daisy? Hardly. I'll still do my best, though.”

Quickly, Geoff counteracted.

“Well, Zowie and I could always go back to our hotel if you think you need some extra hours of sleep.”

At those words, Zowie eyed him warily over her shoulder, trying to figure out whether it was a joke or a badly concealed threat. Orlando, however, quickly cleared the air.

“Extra hours of sleep are overrated.”

With that simple statement, Orlando put an end to the exchange and Zowie felt that, should she want to spend any time with him at all, she had to leave the car, and do it now. Once again eyeing Geoff over her shoulder, she offered him a reassuring smile.

“I'll behave, don't worry. I'll be waiting for you.”

Not wanting to give Geoff another excuse, Zowie quickly exited the car and, standing next to Orlando, she let her gaze follow the vehicle as it exited Orlando’s property. There was a sense of uneasiness inside her as she remembered her broken promise, but the moment Orlando’s hand wrapped around hers, the feeling that had overwhelmed her upon her arrival rose to life once again.

“Let's go inside.” He said softly, and when Zowie met his intense eyes, her heart began to pound in an uneven beat that robbed her of her breath. “Dinner's ready.”

The surprise his words provoked wormed its way through the haze that surrounded her and wide-eyed, she looked up at him.

“You cooked?”

The unrepentant grin that played on his lips was enough of an answer.

“Not really, but my housekeeper is awesome at that.”

~*~

Time would prove that Orlando's previous appraisal of his housekeeper's cooking abilities was nothing but the truth. As they both lounged on the large sofa that overlooked the pool, lake and mountains beyond, Zowie realised this had been her first approach to Moroccan cuisine… and just how much she had been missing on. The couscous, a combination of semolina, vegetables and meat had been delicious, and the dessert, another typical Moroccan dish called sfenj, guaranteed an extra hard work-out session the following day. Not that Zowie minded; after all, who could say no to those small doughnuts soaked in honey? Intrigued by Moroccan food, she now promised herself to pay the Sunday market at Ouarzazate a visit first chance she got; although she was useless at cooking, the sole thought of more sfenj lured her in.

Now, however, other matters occupied her mind. Like the man beside her, for example, whose arm held her by the waist and close to him so her back rested on his chest, her head was tucked under his chin, and his breath tickled her hair. There was peace in Orlando’s arms, Zowie realised; a feeling she wasn’t sure was born deep within her, or if it somehow seeped into her from him. He was half sitting, half lying against the armrest, and the complete trust Zowie felt while being in his arms spoke volumes of her feelings for him.

Sighing happily, she let her eyes drift outside as she rejoiced in his proximity.

“This has got to be the most beautiful view.” She whispered, moving just enough to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. “I don't understand how you manage to leave this behind every single morning.”

Orlando smiled as his lips brushed a soft, gentle kiss on her fragrant hair.

“Well, I wasn't exactly hired to just enjoy the view, but yes, it's hard to leave all this peace behind sometimes. Some days, especially when I know we have long hours of work ahead, I just want to lock myself up here and ignore everything else.”

Like in this very moment, for example, Orlando mused. If for some reason he had to stand up and leave, he would rather be damned. This was perfection, he realised, and nothing, _nothing_ , was powerful enough to make him unwrap his arms from around Zowie’s warm body. Silence surrounded them and the blues, blacks and silvers of the growing darkness rolled over the lake and mountains adding to the intimacy of the moment. That, combined to the feeling of peace Orlando found with Zowie in his arms, made him see that this was exactly what he had been craving for for a long, long time.

He lived in a world full of insanity and pressure, a world with an unhealthy amount of interest in his life, and keeping his guard up all the time was exhausting. Draining, even. It made him feel as if he wasn’t Orlando anymore, as if someone else had taken over his body and had relegated the true him to the darkest recesses of his being. This person he was with right now, however... she was different. Zowie gave him peace, demanding nothing and offering him the world instead. She had the ability to make him feel like the old Orlando again, one with far less responsibilities and a much lighter burden on his shoulders.

All in all, Zowie made him feel free to be himself.

There was a hint of a smile on Orlando's lips as his cheek brushed her hair, revelling on its softness and scent. He couldn't say it was like the old times, for there had been nothing like that four years ago. Too young, too immature and too scared to allow himself that, Orlando had kept Zowie at an arm’s distance all the time.

But it had changed now. The warmth of her skin made his tingle, and the hand that rested on her tummy had the hardest of times remaining still. There was softness under the simple white cotton t-shirt she wore, but also a firmness born of her thorough training. His fingers prickled with the need to feel more, but Orlando allowed himself nothing but a slight spread of his fingers, covering as much of her as he could. Was that a shiver he felt under his palm? It was too light, almost unnoticeable, but the idea that his touch could affect her so much was a heady though. It couldn’t be compared, however, to the shock of electricity that coursed him when one of his fingers, having surpassed the boundaries of her t-shirt, stumbled with a naked patch of skin above the waist of her jeans.

The potent shiver that shook Orlando from head to toe caught him completely by surprise, filling his entire being with a mix of longing and surprise. Never, in his entire adult life, had he felt so strongly about a simple, innocent touch. It had barely been there, barely noticeable, but in the end, it had been enough to bring a wave of heat to life inside him. The softness Orlando had felt through her clothes was nothing compared to the actual feeling of her skin and wayward thoughts began to run through his mind.

“Thanks for inviting me.” Zowie spoke softly, and her sudden words managed, if only just barely, to take his mind off some of the most intense paths it was taking. “I wish I could come over more often, but you know Geoff... sometimes I have the feeling I'm living with a slave driver.”

Her aggravated statement brought a grin to his lips. Geoff was a great guy, but when work was involved, no friendship or long-standing relationship stood in the middle.

“That's what makes him so good at what he does, don’t you think? And no matter how much you complain, I know you, Zowie.” Orlando said. “You work just as hard as Geoff does.”

A long, low and somewhat sad sigh rolled from Zowie's lips, making Orlando frown. Where had that come from? The hint of sadness had barely been there, but there was no way he could miss it. Confused, Orlando parted his lips to ask the questions that filled his mind, but Zowie's soft voice beat him at it.

“I do. I just... I'm not sure it pays off, you know? I still have lots and lots of catching up to do.”

If anything, Zowie's words only managed to puzzle Orlando even further, and although he tried to meet her eyes, their position didn’t allow him to. Confused for a second, he soon realised what was wrong: this wasn’t the first time Zowie thought about that. The wistfulness, the weight in her words showed that this was a matter that had been going around in her head for some time, and that she hadn't shared it with anyone, not even him. Catching up to do? Her hard work not paying off? What on Earth was she trying to say?

“What are you talking about, Zowie?”

Sighing softly, she wished she could take her careless comment back. Why did she have to ruin a perfectly good moment by blurting out something like that? Their time was running out; Geoff would come to pick her up soon and then, the magic of that moment in the silence and the dark would be gone. Why bring her insecurities out now, then, when they weren’t needed?

Still, the moment Orlando's hands posed themselves on her arms and began to turn her around, Zowie didn't resist. What was the point? The cards were on the table now, and there was no avoiding the subject. The instant their eyes met, however, Zowie’s heart twisted inside her. This wasn't how she wanted to be in his arms! He had scooted over to the side to leave her enough room, and with her back pressed tightly against that of the couch, she could feel the angles of Orlando's side against her tummy, where her hand posed itself for balance. Zowie could feel him, his warmth and his strength in every inch of her body, and although she wanted that sensation to fill her completely, the look in his brown eyes told her otherwise. Taking a deep breath, she began to speak.

“Have you taken a look at the other guys, Orlando? The ones in Geoff's team, I mean?” A surprisingly trembling hand brushed the hair that had tumbled down her face, pulling it behind her ear. “Perhaps it's not that obvious to the inexperienced eye, but I know what I'm doing. I can see them, and they're far much better than me. Let's take Brian, for example. The guy is just... amazing!” Her eyes widened when an image of the boy played before her eyes. Looking down at Orlando, she added. “I lost three years of training, Orlando, and that's a long time! There’s _no_ way I can be on the same level with them, and sometimes... sometimes it feels like I'm stealing their jobs.”

There, she had said it. Back in New Zealand Zowie had done her best to prove herself a worthy addition to her dad's team, but not once had she felt insecure of her abilities. Now in Morocco, that horrible feeling was all over her. What did the other members of Geoff’s team think of her? They were all so talented, and she had fallen so far behind, that Zowie was sure they all thought Orlando and Geoff were the only reason why she was there. The sole thought was enough to bring a hot blush of shame to her cheeks and a light stinging to her eyes. Way to go, Zowie, she mused to herself. Great way to ruin the mood!

When Orlando spoke next, his shock was so obvious, it took her by surprise.

“Are you even listening to yourself? Do you have any idea how insane this sounds?” His hands moved to her arms once again, their grip strong but controlled as he tried to attract her attention. “You’re _good_ , Zowie… better than most of those guys you’re praising right now. Yes, Brian might be good, but he's no match to you! Geoff knows that, everyone else does too, why can't you just see it? I trained with Brian, remember? The guy might have all the talent in the world, but he just _can't_ share it. He doesn't know how! But you, Zowie, you have it all. You have the talent _and_ the teaching ability. Do you honestly think the producers would have let you stay this long just because you're Geoff's friend? Think again.”

Zowie stared at him, her heart hammering against her ribs. Orlando's words made so much sense! But even though he had said the exact same things Zowie needed to hear, they still failed to reach her completely. Lost in her insecurities, she couldn’t see the reason in Orlando’s words.

“It's not that easy.” She murmured with a soft voice. “Had I been training all this time, I could have been on their same level, but I didn't pick up a sword for three years... three years! It's a miracle I can even remember how to do this altogether.” Defeated, Zowie lowered her gaze, letting it linger on the white fabric of his shirt without quite seeing it. “Sometimes I look at you, I see what you've done, and it reminds me of all the things that I could have done myself.”

For a moment, Orlando couldn’t understand what Zowie was talking about. Insecurities he could comprehend, but that he reminded her of all that could have been? His confusion must have been obvious, for it prompted Zowie to go on.

“The change in you was so obvious when I met you in Los Angeles.” She said, and a sad smile touched her lips. “You were no longer the thin, lanky boy I used to know and your career was just beginning to take off. You had changed, Orlando, but for the better, and when I saw that, when I realised all that you had done and all the doors you could still open, I felt so... ashamed.”

That last word was said with a voice so low and soft, that Orlando could barely hear it. But he did, and the power of her affirmation felt like a blow to his stomach.

“I don't ever want to hear you talk about yourself that way again, you hear me?” He implored fervently yet sternly as he gripped her arms even tighter. “You're strong, Zowie, much stronger than you give yourself credit for. We all make mistakes and yes, some more serious than others.” He rushed to add when she parted her lips to speak. “But you got out. You _wanted_ to get out, and that's the important thing. You were strong enough to leave all that behind and I admire you for that. You have no idea how proud it makes me to see how far you've come in such a short time.”

The words came from the bottom of his heart, and the way Orlando locked gazes with Zowie intended to let her know that very same thing. But those blue eyes he knew so well glowed with a myriad of emotions that went from pain to shame, presenting a heart-wrenching sight that made Orlando’s twist with grief. How come he had never noticed that she felt ashamed of herself? As absorbed in his own issues as he had been, not once had he stopped to consider that the ghosts he had thought long gone were still there, haunting her.

But there was something else in Zowie’s eyes, something so compelling Orlando found himself unable of tearing his gaze away from her. Blue and bottomless, her eyes shone with longing, and it was an emotion so enticing and irresistible, Orlando felt attracted to them like a moth to a flame.

And their pull was so strong, that the first touch of Zowie's lips on his caught him completely by surprise.

There was a brief second of puzzlement, a second filled with questions and surprise, and his eyes widened as realisation slowly dawned on him. Zowie was kissing him! Orlando tried to reason, but the feeling of her lips moving against his overpowered everything else. Soft and delicate, they were exactly as he had always imagined, and when they demanded a response, Orlando could have never denied it.

All conscious thought fled from his mind, replaced by the need of feeling more, of tasting more, of tearing down every single barrier that time and fear had built between them. All caution thrown to the wind, Orlando's hands began a slow descent down Zowie's arms, feeling the softness and the warmth of her skin. God, how long had he wanted to do that? When Zowie meowed in delight and melted against him, Orlando realised the moment for thinking was long gone. Now was the time for enjoyment.

Teasing, his lips parted only a little, and when his tongue lightly traced her full bottom lip, Zowie shivered in his arms, a trembling that had a potent effect on him. With their bodies pressed so tightly together, nothing stood between them, and Orlando could feel Zowie's every curve, every breath, every shiver that shook her entirely. The closeness pooled arousal in his lower belly, and it pushed Orlando to take the next step.

Dizzy. That was exactly how Orlando made her feel. His kiss and his touch made her head spin, and that warm, strong body pressed tight against her felt exactly like it had always had in her daydreams. A sudden, brief moment of panic struck Zowie at the thought. What if this was nothing but a dream, a trick of her mind to give her something she longed for so much? Trembling and almost reluctant, her hands skimmed down Orlando’s chest, and the shiver that coursed his body was all the answer she needed.

The moan that escaped Orlando's lips at her touch mingled with her own, a chance he swiftly took to tentatively slip his tongue past her lips and bring what little resistance lingered inside her down. _More,_ Zowie’s mind chanted. _More, more, more._ She wanted to be as close to him as it was physically possible, feel him on every inch of her body and, if possible, feel everything he felt. That was why, while her tongue duelled with Orlando's in the most delectable way, Zowie snuggled even closer to him, happiness almost bursting out of her.

The moment her warm and pliant body brushed his in a most seductive, yet oblivious way, a burning longing tore through Orlando. His hands, until then still and steady on the small of her back, began a slow descent down the enticing curve of her waist. There was no need to hurry, he reminded himself as his lips teased Zowie's and his hands acquainted themselves with every inch of her. She gasped when they moved upwards and the tips of his fingers barely brushed the swell of her breasts, but before she could respond in any way, his hands drifted downwards once again, coming to a stop in the curve of her hips.

How many times had he dreamt of a moment like this, Orlando wondered? As his fingers softly caressed her through her jeans, the answer was as clear as nothing ever before. Countless times. Countless times had Orlando dreamt, either asleep or awake, of touching Zowie this way. But this longing hadn’t been born in Spain or here in Morocco, oh no… it had begun a long time ago. Four years ago, to be precise, back in New Zealand, when he began to repress his true, deepest feelings. There had been a time when images so realistic of Zowie kissing him, touching him, and undressing him had taunted him, but none of that compared to the powerful appeal of the real her.

His hands remained in a chaste position on her hips, not once moving to touch her elsewhere. While a part of Orlando wanted to remain true to his promise of taking things slow, another one, powerful in a way he had never imagined, overruled him in an almost masochistic way. There was no need to try it all at once, a voice spoke inside him. Yes, there was nothing he would like more than showing Zowie exactly how much he wanted her but, what about the mystery? What about the anticipation? The only concession Orlando allowed himself was to barely slip his fingers under the soft cotton of Zowie’s t-shirt to sample her soft skin.

The first touch of her sent a wave of fire through his body. Stopping on the small of her back, just shy of the waistband of her jeans, his hands stilled there, but the feeling of warmth and softness was everything Orlando could have ever imagined... and more. Craving for more, his fingers followed the dip of her spine, and when Zowie trembled against him, Orlando knew she wanted him just as much as he did her.

For a brief moment Zowie had the fleeting feeling, amidst the havoc Orlando caused inside her, that she had lost all control over her body. It didn't respond to her orders anymore, and it solely answered to Orlando's hands. If he touched her, she shivered. If his hands rolled up and down her body, she moaned. If his hands burnt on her skin as they did now, then all Zowie could do was try and melt into him, her mouth angling to better accept the onslaught of his own.

But there was something Zowie hadn't counted on. When Orlando moved his hands, a thought struck her with the power of a lighting. One that, instead of starting a fire that would ravage her whole, only succeeded on bringing that longing to a sudden and unpleasant end.

Fear suddenly replaced it all, killing the fire, the longing, and the need to be as close to Orlando as physically possible. He couldn't touch her, not like that! He couldn't continue with his investigation, couldn't carry on sampling the skin he seemed to love so much without discovering the scars that told the story of her sick, dark, and unbalanced relationship with Matt.

Zowie had never shared that part of her story with Orlando, and although she didn't want the kiss to end, she couldn't let his curious fingers accidentally brush one of the scars that marred her body. At that, Zowie could have cried. Why was fate so cruel? Why now, that she had all that she had ever dreamt of, did her past come back to haunt her?

Tears burnt in her eyes when Orlando noticed her unexpected stillness, bringing his own actions to a halt as sudden as her own. Her lips lingered on his, and when he pulled back to peer up at her, it took everything Zowie possessed not to bathe his face with her tears. A deep breath was barely enough to keep them at bay, and although Zowie was sure her eyes shone in the most tell-telling way, she convinced herself she could handle it if that meant tearing Orlando's attention from exposing her skin.

When he peered up at Zowie, he wasn't sure what to expect. The change in her had been so sudden that, hadn't he been so tuned with her, he would have missed it entirely. But as soon as he read her face, he understood exactly what was going on. Countless emotions shone there, but it was the flash of pain in her blue eyes what made Orlando understand what was truly going on.

He had rushed her. Despite his best intentions, he had pushed Zowie beyond the boundaries he had promised himself he wouldn't cross, and now was paying the price. There was fear in her eyes, and his hands instantly flew to her face, cupping her cheeks so she couldn’t avoid him. The thought that she could be afraid of him felt like a sword thrust through his heart.

“I'm sorry, Zowie.” He murmured with a tone that was both pained and reassuring at the same time. “So, so sorry. I shouldn't have done that.”

At his words, the fear that had risen inside Zowie increased to unknown levels as realisation dawned on her. Orlando… he regretted what had happened between them! Of course he had been a rather willing participant and the thought sent bitterness spiralling up and down her body, but Zowie refused to let it wrap around her heart. This was her mistake. _She_ had kissed Orlando. _She_ had read all the signals wrong. _She_ had been so desperate for some love and consolation, she had jumped on him first chance she got.

With mortification seeping into every inch of her being, Zowie shifted, wanting nothing but to get away from him and out of that place. Every time her body brushed against his, however, her heart bled. She was so stupid... so, so stupid! Finally, after all those years, she had done the one thing she had feared the most: she had ruined it all.

And when Orlando's hands gripped her arms tightly, holding her in place, Zowie felt new tears burning in her eyes, tears born from the deepest humiliation she had ever felt.

“What are you doing? Zowie... Zowie, look at me!”

Orlando couldn't say he was confused; he was beyond all sort of puzzlement, totally and completely lost. Why was Zowie trying to scramble, albeit unsuccessfully, away from him? And why wouldn't she even meet his eye? His brain worked furiously in search of an answer, hoping to somehow make sense of what was going on, and when the thought finally hit him, Orlando's mouth gaped in shock as his whole being flooded with unease.

It was the way he had voiced his feelings, he realised. It had been completely wrong, and now Zowie thought he regretted his actions. That he regretted kissing her, as if that kiss hadn't shaken up his entire world. And now, as her eyes were closed so tight wrinkles formed around them as she tried to control some unknown emotion, Orlando understood what his careless words had done to her, and the sight of her broke his heart.

“Look at me.” His voice was soft and gentle, but there was no mistake as to the order hidden behind them, and although Zowie adamantly shook her head, Orlando decided to go on nonetheless. There was only one chance for him to speak his mind, only one chance to make her understand what he had truly felt. “It came out all wrong, Zowie. I thought you'd be mad at me or something, but I never meant to say that I was sorry _this_ happened.” Taking a deep breath, his voice was soft yet firm when he spoke the next words. “I'd never regret doing something I've been wanting to do for the last four years.”

Was it possible for her heart to stop beating? Even more, was it possible for her to survive the shock that his words had caused her? Zowie's breath got caught in her throat as Orlando's last statement echoed over and over in her mind. Four years, he had said. He had been wanting to do _this_ for four years, and _this_ could only mean one thing: their kiss. Still, Zowie didn't dare to let hope blaze inside her, and barely allowed herself the tiniest, weakest flicker of brightness in her heart.

It seemed an eternity had passed, but Zowie only opened her eyes when she was sure there were no tears left to tell a story she wasn't sure she wanted Orlando to know. Shyly meeting his brown gaze, the intensity in there made her gasp; dark and bottomless, the mix of longing and fear in them got her heart thundering in her chest.

“What?” The word escaped her lips before she could even stop it.

Orlando breathed deeply, choosing his next words carefully. There was a tiny uncertainty biting his heart, but he instinctively knew that lying or trying to find a way around it wouldn't work. It was time to lay things out in the open, and pray Zowie's kiss hadn't been an outburst, but rather something that came from the heart.

“I've been waiting four years to do this, Zowie. To kiss you.” He stated, his heart hammering in his chest in such way, he was sure Zowie could feel it, so close together they were.

Zowie's head spun at what she had just heard, and her hands fisted on the fabric of Orlando's shirt, looking for some sort of balance. _Four years_. The words resounded in her ears, bouncing up and down in her mind. It seemed so obvious, and at the same time, Zowie felt she was brushing understanding with just the tip of her fingers. Millions of questions screamed at her, demanding for an answer and yet, a single one was the only one to escape her lips in the softest, almost inaudible murmur, laden with both fear and hope.

“Why?”

Orlando's sigh was deep. With his hands still on either side of her face, he dared a light brush of his thumbs against the soft skin of her cheeks, now blushed as her deep blue eyes stared at him.

“I thought it would be for the best. I thought I was doing the right thing, that I was saving both of us a big problem. There was too much at stake, Zowie, and you were so young, so eager... at first I had the hardest time resisting you.” The longing in his words made her stomach do a somersault. “Soon I realised I couldn't let that happen. I tried so hard to convince myself I was doing the right thing, Zow... so hard! I kept telling myself that I was doing it for you, that I was ultimately sparing you the heartbreak you would feel when I left New Zealand, and it worked for some time. Now I know how wrong I was. I was just fooling myself.”

The tiny flicker of hope in Zowie's heart suddenly burnt into an all-consuming fire. She tried to control it, but failed miserably, and when her eyes locked with his, her hands fisted his shirt so tightly, creases formed here and there.

“You don't regret this, then?”

Orlando let out a loud breath, and Zowie couldn't be sure, but the corner of his mouth seemed to have curled up in the tiniest hint of a smile.

“Do I have to say it again, Zowie?” Orlando meant those words teasingly, but the eagerness that burnt in her eyes, one that was borderline with desperation, told him that wasn't the moment for jokes. Moving his hands down to Zowie's neck, he finally added. “I don't regret kissing you, Zowie. Not now, not ever. I just regret not having done it sooner.”

Zowie was given no time to ponder on what he had just said, for his right hand slipped behind her neck and slowly, yet with a certainty that made her heart flutter, brought her lips down to his, sealing them with a kiss that put the previous one to shame. It was just as intense and moving, but this time it was honest, open, and succeeded on making Zowie forget all about the scars that had brought their first kiss to such a horrible halt.

But their time was short. Before long, Geoff would come knocking at Orlando’s door, and Zowie would have to leave. God knew she wanted to stay and make up for the lost time, but she was also very aware of how impossible that was. How she would face Geoff after this, however, she didn’t know. She didn’t want to lie to him, but what else could she do? Orlando had mentioned how much there had been at stake in New Zealand and now, here in Morocco, things were even worse. At the thought, Zowie cursed the unfair destiny that had been laid down for them.

“What will happen if they find out?” She suddenly asked from her spot nestled in Orlando's arms, her head resting on his strong shoulder.

There was no need to ask who _they_ were, Orlando knew right away who Zowie was referring to. _They_ were the producers, the journalists, those who could bring what they had just discovered to a bitter end.

“It can't be good, you know? Not if someone finds out.” Zowie insisted.

Orlando stroked her arm in return. He was worried, yes, but he wouldn't let that concern spoil that magical moment they were sharing.

“Then let's keep this a secret. Something just for us. When the hype dies down, when everyone forgets about it, then we'll let the producers know. They won't be able to do much then.”

Zowie nodded, trusting Orlando's judgement with her heart. Hiding didn't sound very tempting, but if it had to be done, then she would; the sole idea of having something that was just theirs was rewarding enough.

Parting was hard. Zowie didn't seem to be able to tear her hands from him, but then again, how could she? Four years of wanting and wishing were too long a time to be satisfied in just a few minutes, but with Geoff honking just outside the door, some things had to be respected.

They shared a final kiss by the door, a kiss that made Zowie's toes curl with delight. God, was that what she had been missing all along? She wanted more, but knew there was no avoiding the responsibility. They had come to an agreement and she would respect it, no matter what.

Orlando escorted her to the car, posing a chaste kiss on her cheek before opening the door for her as he exchanged a few words with Geoff, allowing Zowie a minute to collect herself. Finding a balance with her friend was hard: if she played it too nonchalantly, Geoff would suspect, and if she let the love-struck expression threatening to take over her face get away with it, she was lost. What was the best way to keep Geoff distracted, then? Talking about their job. Zowie dutifully busied Geoff with questions, and as he talked, she allowed herself brief moments to relish on what had happened in Orlando’s house.

It would work, she told to herself as she made herself more comfortable in her seat. They had a goal, and even if they had to hide their relationship from everyone, then Zowie knew it was more than worth it. Four long years were proof enough.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32.**

 

Zowie had visited many places with her family. Europe, America… there were countless spots she could pin on a map with the legend _“Zowie was here”_ , and she knew very well how lucky she was to have visited sights many people only dreamed of. None of them, however, no matter how spectacular, could have ever prepared her for Ouarzazate's _souk_ on an early Sunday morning.

The _souk_ , or city market, burst with a natural and expected activity. Colours beckoned her from every angle, an array of greens, reds, blues and yellows that, as well as others she couldn’t name, caught her eye and made her feel energetic and full of life. Locals laden with the day’s purchases passed by, and Zowie stepped left and right, not wanting to be in the way. Yet, as she did, her eyes darted all over the place, not wanting to miss a thing.

And there was so much to see, Zowie could have spent the entire day there. Since she wasn't one of the locals who knew exactly what to buy and where to get it and, additionally, how to get the best price for said items, Zowie simply wandered around. Single bag in hand, she was having the hardest time deciding what to buy.

Her first purchase, however, hadn’t been nearly as difficult. Having just set foot in the area sheltered under a large, makeshift tent, she had instantly veered in the direction of the young woman selling delicious Moroccan pastries. Zowie's Arabic was even worse than her Spanish and even though the woman's broken English wasn't much better, in the end, the transaction had still been made, and now Zowie was busy munching on warm, honey-coated sfenj. She had bought enough to share with Geoff, but at that rate, she wondered if there would be any left by the time she left the _souk_.

It was with great regret that Zowie finally tied the handles of the plastic bag together, putting an end to her indulgence. In an attempt to keep her mind from the delicious-smelling pastries, she busied herself with the stalls around her. They weren't stalls _per se_ as she had seen in other markets, but rather a piece of fabric spread on the ground where people placed their merchandise, displaying it for everyone to see. But fruit and vegetables didn't hold much attractive to her, so hurrying past that area, she headed to where clothing and household items could be seen.

Curious about her surroundings, and wanting to soak up in as much as the local vibe as she could, Zowie spared some instants to discreetly look at the women around her. The cultural differences were obvious, and although she was curious about the long, flowing robes and matching head scarves, she tried her best to keep her head free of prejudices. This was a different country, she told herself, with a different set of rules and beliefs that deserved as much respect as her own. Besides, giving the robes a second, more thorough look, Zowie realised that they were probably better suited for that kind of weather than her own jeans and sweatshirt. She had wondered if it would be suitable to cover her head while in the _souk_ , but since she had never worn a head scarf and had no idea how to do it properly, she was afraid she’d only end up doing something offensive rather than blending in. And with Morocco having a special place in her heart, she simply couldn’t allow that.

A tiny smile touched her lips and Zowie looked down, not wanting the people around her to think her crazy. She would never forget Morocco. Ever. For as long as she lived, the moments she had lived there, as well as those she still hoped to experience, would remain forever in her heart. That kiss in Orlando’s house had turned beautiful and mysterious Morocco into an even lovelier and enchanting country.

It had been almost three weeks since then. Forced to hide and keep loving gestures for those few moments they could spend on their own, they had still made it work. She had come a long way, she realised. While in the past she would have screamed her feeling from the top of the roofs, Zowie now relished on those secret moments they shared, for they were totally and completely their own. This was _theirs_ , she mused, and no one else had the right to meddle.

Hiding was by no means easy, and more often than not, Zowie wondered if those around them didn’t realise exactly what was going on. God, even her mum, who was miles and miles away and whom she only talked to on the phone, had noticed something different in her voice every time she mentioned Orlando, enough to prompt her to go straight to the point.

_“Is there something going on between you two?”_

In Noemie's benefit, and much to her own relief, Zowie had to admit there hadn't been a single hint of accusation or recrimination in her mum's voice. If anything, it had only showed the same motherly concern she showed at everything Zowie shared with her.

_“We're just friends, mum. That's all.”_

_“Would you want it to be something else?”_

Zowie had barely managed to dodge that, unsure as to what her mother wanted to hear, and up to this day she wondered if her simple _“if it has to, then yes”_ had done anything to convince her. Whatever the effect, however, Noemie hadn’t prodded for more.

Thinking of her mum reminded Zowie why she had come to the _souk_ in the first place: to buy souvenirs for her family. The promise she had made of visiting New Zealand dangled over her head, and her heart was torn in two every time she thought about it. While a part of Zowie wanted to go back, see her loved ones and the sights that were so familiar to her, eat her mum’s food and sleep in her old bed, a part of her was hesitant. What would happen if she went back? There was so much she needed to tell them, so many things she was sorry for, that Zowie wasn’t sure how she would handle it. And then, to top it all, there was the William factor, something she refused to dwell on for her feelings for that matter hadn’t changed at all.

She shook her head. Why think ahead when the present was so joyous and perfect? Taking one step at a time wasn’t easy for someone like her, who had always rushed headlong into everything, but for once, she would try her best to abide to that rule. There were still three months left. While she made up her mind, she could still shop for some souvenirs, right?

And since clothing seemed to be the best option, Zowie veered in the direction of a stall that sold some colourful pieces. Well, a part of her job was already done, she mused to herself as she eyed the display before her. When she had last talked to her brother, Jared had pretty much begged her to get him a shesh, the traditional turban the Touareg men from Morocco wore when in the desert. She had researched online for it, and the blue one that rested on the far right end of the display seemed perfect for Jay, and a corner of her mouth quirked up at his eccentricity.

Choosing for her mum took a bit more considering, and Zowie ended up getting her a set of colourful scarves made of vegetable silk, wool and chenille in reds and bright pinks, colours Noemie loved. When Jewell’s turn came, however, Zowie's shoulders sagged. Not once, since getting back in touch with her family, had she talked to her little sister. Not a single time.

At first, Noemie had tried to excuse her: she was out, she was staying over at a friend’s house, she was with their dad… until it came to a point when she ran out of plausible excuses, and Zowie had been told the truth. Jewell didn’t want to talk to her, as simple as that. She had had to almost drag it out of her mother, but in the end Noemie had told her what had angered Jules so much, and Zowie couldn’t do anything else but understand what was going on. Jewell was mad for all she had put her family through, and had no intentions of playing nice.

Regardless of everything Zowie herself had gone through, she couldn’t deny her sister was right: she _had_ put her family through a lot with her disappearance, and she couldn't be mad at Jules for feeling the way she did. She still got her a present nonetheless, a blouse made of the softest silk in a beautiful pink hue. Although Jewell had always loved pink and Zowie hoped she still did, there was no certainty; last time she had seen her sister, Jules had been thirteen. She was seventeen now, and Zowie remembered very well what it was like to be that age. A lot could have changed in the time she had been away but hopefully, her present would be a token of peace.

Once she got all she had come from, Zowie was on her way out of the _souk_ when she spotted a man selling what looked like handmade jewellery. A sunbeam that filtered through the two pieces of fabric that covered his merchandise bounced off the metal, and that was a call Zowie couldn't resist. Approaching him with a smile, her eyes went from one piece to the other, admiring the work until they finally settled on a particular one.

The double chain-link bauble bracelet, with its antique shade of gold, instantly caught her eye. Adorned with five dramatic round baubles that hung from it, each one had a pale yellow cabochon in its centre and matching glass seed beads around them. They reminded her of the sun, and the more Zowie studied it, the more she realised it would make the perfect souvenir for herself. Relying heavily on hand gestures, Zowie made her intentions clear to the seller. Since trying to get a better price for it was obviously a talent only locals were born with, Zowie spared herself the embarrassment and paid the price she was asked; after all, the piece was worth every cent.

Standing up with a smile, she was stretching her hand to get the package with her bracelet when a voice called her name.

“Hello, Zowie. Long time no see.”

Chills of pure terror ran down her spine at the sound, and for an impossibly long second, Zowie found herself frozen, her heart stopping in her chest at the sound. It couldn't be... No, no, no… it wasn’t possible!

Yet, no matter how hard Zowie tried to convince herself she was mistaken, her heart screamed otherwise. That was a voice she would never forget in her life, for it was the same one that filled her with the purest, most basic form of terror she had ever felt: a fear for her own life.

She didn't want to turn around, and her mind and body warred for an instant that seemed eternal. Every instinct inside her screamed at her to run, the get away from that voice as fast as she could, but out of its own accord, her body began to turn, facing a figure that had inhabited her darkest nightmares for months. One she had prayed to God hoping to never see again.

Matt.


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33.**

 

_“No sign of wings_

_As you turn your back on me.”_

**_Avantasia – Dying For An Angel_ **

 

One brief, quick look at that face was all Zowie needed to understand that she couldn’t remain in his presence another second. The bracelet she had loved so much and that she had pictured herself wearing on a date with Orlando fled from her mind as she bolted away, leaving a confused man yelling after her. It didn’t mind that she had already paid for the piece or that people stared at her thinking her crazy; there was only one thought first and foremost in Zowie’s mind, and that was as simple as it was primal.

Survival.

Even though she dodged and pushed people and ran into bags and their owners, not once did she stop running or threw a single apologetic word at the angry shouts that followed her on her wake. She couldn't. Taking a look back meant slowing down, and that was something Zowie couldn't afford. Fear led her, and terror gave speed to her feet. Somewhere inside her mind, amidst the clouds of horror that closed in on her, Zowie understood that this maze of makeshift corridors that the made the _souk_ offered her what was, most likely, her only way of escape. But the market wasn’t endless, and soon she found herself standing on a street, crowds and merchandise left behind and leaving her exposed under the bright Moroccan sun. As if to prove her that this was the stuff nightmares were made of, the narrow street was empty, and Zowie barely spared a look around before propelling herself forward.

How long had she ran? Where was she? Zowie didn’t know, but the searing pain in her side and the wild, uneven thumping of her heart spoke volumes. How she had come to that narrow, winding little street lined with tall houses the colour of terracotta, she would never know, but one thing was obvious: she couldn't go on forever. Could she stop, though, knowing what was at stake? The pain on her side suddenly doubled her over, and for the first time in her escape did Zowie chance a quick glance over her shoulder. Her legs didn’t respond her as expected and they almost tangled with each other, but the effort was worth it: she was alone. Alone and safe enough, for the time being, to stop for a few seconds, catch her breath and then keep going until she found help.

Finding an entryway not three meters away, she quickly slipped inside, her heart thundering in her chest at the speed of a crazy, runaway train. Taking big, desperate gulps of air, she doubled over, noting at once the frantic and terrified trembling of her hands. Not even at his worse had Matt made her feel so afraid, but of course, Zowie hadn’t known back then what she did now. She wasn’t supposed to live to tell the tale this time, she realised. Matt wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.

Which was why she had to go on, she realised. Feeling if only the tiniest bit better, Zowie struggled to take a deep breath. Inching herself against the wall, she meant to take a peek outside her precarious shelter, but she never got to do it. Two hands, strong and familiar in their brutality, gripped her shoulders with enough force to bruise her as the back of her head hit the bricks, sending white stars that blinded her for long seconds.

She struggled. Zowie did everything she could to free herself, not needing to see the face of her attacker to recognise his abusive touch or his intentions. She kicked, punched, even bit a patch of flesh that briefly came within her reach so strong, the coppery taste of blood filled her mouth. It nauseated her, but all discomfort was fleeting if that earned her her freedom. Matt couldn't win, she _couldn't_ let him win!

But he tore himself free from her, once again hitting her head against the wall. Zowie gritted her teeth, not wanting to give him the pleasure of screaming in pain, but the agony was so strong, she could barely contain it. Terror rose inside her, battling that determination that struggled to keep her going for every inch. Too many times had Zowie suffered his wrath to forget the horror he inspired her, one that had only increased after seeing his true face. With her eyes tightly closed, her mind whirled looking for a way out, but meeting an ominous dead end every single time.

“That's _not_ the proper way to greet your boyfriend, Zowie. Running away, kicking, _biting_ him... that's not in the book.”

Matt tsked at her with a hint of sarcasm and scolding in his voice that failed to cover the real threat underlying them. He gripped her shoulders even tighter, and Zowie bit her tongue. She was terrified, but she wasn’t going to let him know the horror he truly awoke in her. If this was it, if this was the final consequence of all her past mistakes, then at least she would go down with a fight.

“I’m sure trying to kill your girlfriend isn’t in the book either, is it?”

After those words, Zowie opened her eyes. They were blurry for a second, but soon focused on their desired target, and the fear that suddenly knotted her stomach was, sadly, much too familiar. Only, this time, it was a thousand times worse.

She had been right. Geoff had never understood the reasons of her fears, of her refusal to press charges against Matt: _this_ was exactly what she had been trying to avoid all along! Geoff had tried to soothe her, telling her that no matter how powerful Matt and his friends were, their hands couldn't stretch as far as Africa or Europe, but he had been wrong. So, so wrong. Perhaps she should have pressed charges. Had she, Matt would have never been able to leave the Unites States so easily. But it was too late now, too late to regret it. There was only one truly important matter now, and that was escaping from the cold touch of death she could feel through his long fingers.

“I suppose we never lived by any book, baby. You and I... we were far too good for that.” He grinned. “And we still can.”

As opposed as to what Zowie might think, there was still a part of her that wasn't completely overcome by fear, and that was the one that managed to feel surprised at Matt's statement.

“Still? _Still?_ ” Zowie asked, her voice showing every bit of her shock. “There is no _still_ between us, Matt! There should have never been an _us_ to begin with!”

A quick examination of Matt showed her exactly how right she was. _The Angel_. That was how Zowie had met him. Handsome, charming, always ready to listen to her problems and even more so to provide her with the drugs she needed, he had successfully hidden his true face. But beyond those blue eyes, that long blond hair that now went past his shoulders and the handsome features, laid the true Matt. Zowie knew better now. There wasn't a single angelic thing about him. He was Devil incarnate, and just like him, he was much too talented at covering his true self.

But Matt wasn't fazed, almost as if he hadn't heard a single word she had just said. Instead, he was busy studying her, and the expression on his face told Zowie he wasn’t pleased at all with what he was seeing.

“Well, well... look how much you've changed.” There was bitterness and accusation in his voice, as well as something else Zowie struggled to decipher, but failed. “I suppose it's all his doing, isn't it?”

Zowie's mouth gaped in shock for the briefest second before a whirl of implications swarmed her mind. Matt knew about Orlando. How and how much exactly, she didn't know, but that he knew about him altogether put Orlando in a position Zowie wanted to avoid at all costs. A position of danger.

Swallowing her fear was the hardest thing Zowie had ever done, but she _had_ to try. For Orlando.

“What are you talking about?”

Again, Matt tsked and his fingers squeezed her even harder, belying the frailness and thinness born from his addiction.

“Oh, I know all about him. About _Orlando_.” The way he pronounced the name, as if trying the feel of it in his tongue, sent a chill of dread down Zowie's spine as his blue eyes, hard and cold as frozen sapphires, settled on her. “I have my ways, Zowie… I thought you knew that already. A few strings pulled here and there and I find out what my girlfriend has been up to since I left her in that alley months ago. How fucking around with a new guy was enough for her to clean her act. Does he know who you are, Zowie? What you _truly_ are? Does this Orlando guy know you’re a fucking junkie who sticks needles up her arms?”

The last words were spat with such violence and venom Zowie winced, shame coursing her veins. She would never be able to completely live down the mistakes of her past and she regretted each and every single one of them, but that they put Orlando in danger? That was something she would never forgive herself for.

Matt snickered, bringing her attention back to him.

“Truth's a bitch, Zowie, isn't it?” He asked snidely. “But here I am now, to remind you of every single little thing you've done in the past and that you don't want your precious actor to know. I'm not going to make this any easy for you, Zow. And while there's nothing I'd like more than finishing off what I started in LA.” As he pronounced those words, his hands moved from Zowie's shoulders to her neck, gripping her there with enough strength to block the air flow. “I'd much rather keep you on your toes. Keep you looking back over your shoulder like you did a little while ago. I'm going to enjoy this, baby. A lot.” Posing a quick kiss on her lips that revolted Zowie, Matt added. “I'll be around, Zowie. When you least expect it. Remember that.”

He was gone as quickly as he had showed up, but the mark he had left on Zowie was enormous and impossible to ignore, going far beyond the bruises she would have the following day. Minutes ago, Zowie's life had seemed the beacon of hope and happiness she had been waiting for years, and nothing could have gone wrong. Now, a shiver ran through her as she collapsed on the dirty floor.

 _What could possibly go wrong?_ She repeated in her mind.

 _Everything_ , was the answer. _Absolutely_ _everything._


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34.**

 

The sun was just beginning to set on the horizon, its tilt bathing the entire set with a glow that, albeit lopsided, was by no means less intense. The modern depiction of the old fief of Ibelin spread before her in the yellowish land, glowing under a sun that spilled over everything it touched, but that failed to thaw the core of frigid ice that had settled deep inside Zowie. Even sitting on the steps of Orlando's trailer, where there was no hiding from the rays of light that coloured everything, the cold inside her simply refused to give in.

Not that she had expected any different. Although Zowie had succeeded at ignoring the chill at times, it was never too far from her heart and mind, and it would radiate frigid waves when she least expected it. Even though the mountains that surrounded the set managed to make her feel safe at times, the truth was undeniable. Zowie was scared. Terrified, to be precise.

And even though a part of her wanted to curl up in her hotel bed and hide until everything worked itself out, that steely, stubborn streak inside her didn’t allow her to. It forced her to get up every morning, join Geoff with the best smile she could muster and then meet Orlando on set. Only when he was around did Zowie manage to cast aside the fear and the ice, until some unknown force manifested it once again, flooding her with a terror that had set its claws deep within her. This time, however, Zowie didn't fear for herself; she knew the risks, had assumed them when she had brought Matt into her life. Deep in her heart, she feared for Orlando.

While on set, he was safe. He was even so in his house, a well-protected area chosen specifically for that reason. But what if he decided to visit Ouarzazate? Although Orlando didn't go there often, there was no way Zowie could stop him, and she sighed at the thought. In troubled times like this, she reminded herself of a mantra that had helped her over that past few days: there was nothing about her that Orlando didn't know. There was nothing Matt could tell that Orlando didn't know already. Why was she so afraid, then?

Because she knew how far Matt was willing to go when he considered himself offended in any way, and by being in Morocco with Orlando, that was precisely what Zowie had done. But Matt had been true to his promise; he didn’t mean to hurt her physically. This time, he meant to keep her in a constant state of uncertainty, surrounded by fear and _what ifs_. This time, his torture was psychological instead of physical, but by no means any less intense.

Sighing heavily, her eyes got lost in the distance, barely making out the tall shape of Orlando talking to the director. In full costume of burgundy tunic and leather trousers, he made a pleasant sight, and Zowie sketched a tiny smile for the first time. Older, more mature and manly, it was a wonder she managed to keep the love-struck expression off her face altogether. Thinking she was putting him in danger felt like an oppressing weight on her already battered and worn heart.

God, how she hated Matt in that minute! He had managed to taint the one thing Zowie wanted to preserve at all cost and his promise to keep her on her toes had turned, indeed, true. Her eyes barely skimmed the wonder that the set of Ibelin was as the chill spread inside her. Would her past _ever_ stop to haunt her? Wold there be a time when she finished paying for every one of her mistakes?

“Hey there.”

The words made her jump in her spot, heart racing for a second before Zowie recognised its familiar source. Taking a deep breath, she turned sideways, looking up and squinting against the bright sun to find Geoff beside her, a halo of light around projected by the sun behind him. Shadowed by the light on his back and the cap he wore, Zowie couldn’t make out his expression, but hoped that the panic that had so briefly, yet intensely, filled her, hadn’t shown on her face. She had kept Geoff out of that mess so far and that was how she intended to keep him.

“Hey.” She answered in as casual a voice as she could muster. Giving him a tiny smile, she lowered the brim of her cap a little, hoping to cast a friendly shadow over her eyes. Noticing her efforts, Geoff sidestepped enough for Zowie not to be in the direct line of the bright sun. “Everything alright?”

“Sure. I was just trying to find you, that's all.”

Zowie blinked, trying her earnest to keep her features as trained as she could. Geoff didn't look particularly concerned; if anything, he looked tired but relaxed, and Zowie forced herself not to overreact.

“Is there anything I can do?” Zowie wondered if Geoff noticed her sudden fidgeting, but he merely discarded her question with a wave of his hand.

“Oh, no. I just wanted to tell you that you’re free to leave now with the others. There's nothing else for you guys to do today, and I thought you would appreciate leaving early. So go, take a shower, wash all the sand off of you and I'll meet you for dinner, okay?” Geoff spoke those words with a smile and a slant of his eyebrow, for he knew much too well that, although Zowie loved Morocco, the wind that blew sand all over the place was the one thing she would change about it.

Zowie, however, was neither amused nor eager.

“Are you coming too?”

Geoff's head shook softly.

“I can't. I have some things left to do here and then I'll join you.”

Zowie's brows knit together. Now that her fears had been confirmed, she felt even less inclined to leave. Still, she tried to rationalise her concerns. What were the odds, after all? She would board the van inside the studios and would only exit it inside the parking facilities of their hotel, the Ibis Moussafir. Matt couldn't get in any of said places. Besides, she realised that acting like there was something going was the best way to tip Geoff off.

“Okay, then. But, are you _sure_ you don't need me around anymore?”

Geoff shook his head and Zowie smiled despite herself, knowing exactly what was going through his mind. He was probably blaming her eagerness to her wanting to do as much as she could to help. If only he knew!

“I _am_ sure. Now get out of here before I make you clean all the dirty swords in the armoury!”

Zowie shook her head, slowly untangling herself as she stood up, her eyes quickly scanning the surrounding area. This time, however, they didn’t search for any sign of danger; they only looked for Orlando, and couldn't find him anywhere.

“He's revising the script with Ridley and Eva.” Geoff pointed out, and Zowie blushed slightly at the realisation of how easily he could read her mind. Since it was useless to pretend it wasn't that what she had had in mind, she gave Geoff a look from her vantage spot on the top step of the stairs of Orlando's trailer.

“Oh. Any big scenes tomorrow?”

“Yes. _The_ scene.”

Zowie's eyes widened and her mouth parted in a silent O in shock as her entire being felt torn in two very different directions. She knew Orlando and his cast mate Eva had to film a love scene; a _sex_ scene, actually. And while a part of her acted very adult-like and understood there was nothing to worry about, another one burnt with discomfort. Such scene was empty of emotions and was probably very uncomfortable for both actors, but deep down inside, her insecurities reared their ugly heads now, when she least needed them. Wasn’t Eva a beautiful woman, after all, one with none of the baggage Zowie had? What if one thing led to the other and Eva and Orlando never heard the director saying _“cut!”_? The sole idea of another woman touching Orlando's skin the way she craved to, feeling his weight on her the way she could only dream of touched her heart with jealousy.

The weight of Geoff’s careful scrutiny dragged her back to reality.

“Oh.” She muttered, suddenly feeling silly and obvious. Then, collecting herself, she added in what she hoped was a nonchalant tone. “Well, let's hope they manage to get over that quickly. I don't know Eva, but last time Orlando talked about it, he really didn't look forward to it. I mean, can you imagine how awkward that must be? I mean, having to act all intimate with someone you don't really know? Weird.”

She could have probably kept those last words to herself. She could have still made her point come across and would have probably given a lot less away hadn’t she felt compelled to elaborate, but Zowie had been completely unable to stop herself. Geoff, however, didn't say a thing. He barely smiled, shrugged and patted her arm.

“You better get going. They're leaving in ten minutes. I'll see you at the hotel, okay?”

Zowie smiled and watched him go for an instant, trying to determine whether her putting her foot in her mouth had given anything away. Geoff didn't look shocked or like he had just had an epiphany, so Zowie hoped hers and Orlando's secret was still safe. Then, taking a deep breath, she jumped from the steps and once she hit the yellowy ground, went to get her stuff, wanting to get out of the set and into the hotel without anything bad happening.

~*~

The van didn't park in the hotel's indoor facilities. Why? Zowie didn't know, but she was one of the last people to collect her backpack from the vehicle's trunk as the others made their way inside through a back door a few metres away. Still busy mulling over Orlando's sex scene and how she was supposed to feel about it, she was completely taken by surprise when a strong hand gripped her arm and roughly jerked her aside, another hand covering her mouth to silence the surprised yelp that struggled to leave her lips. Automatically, all other thought left her mind, and that same terror she had felt days ago filled her body once again, expanding the cold core inside her until it had taken over her completely. Looking around in desperation, she realised there was no one to help; once again he had chosen his course of action well, and no one could see them.

“Did you miss me, baby? Have you been thinking of me?”

Zowie's stomach rebelled when sensing Matt's warm breath on her ear, the feeling of his body tightly pressed against her back compelling her to fight. She resisted the urge, though; unleashing Matt only meant bringing Hell upon herself and Orlando. Zowie stood very still instead, her backpack forgotten at her feet as Matt, sensing her surrender, let go of her, turning her around and cornering her against the wall.

“Looking good, Zowie.” Added Matt, giving her a good once-over. “Does the pretty boy fuck you good? Does he do it the way you like it?”

The sheer rudeness and offence in his comment felt like a slap to Zowie’s face. She had never liked it _that_ way. She had never, ever sought his sadism, but those mistakes, she realised, would taint her life forever.

“Why, Matt?” She asked suddenly, her voice a mix of exhaustion and resignation. “Why are you here? What else could you possibly want from me? You made it very clear that you didn't want me anymore the moment you left me for dead.”

Matt's grin faded, and the focused, almost feverish on its intensity look he gave her made Zowie shiver with fear. Leaning closer to her, their faces were merely a whisper apart when he spoke.

“Because you're mine. Because you belong with me.”

At that, Zowie could do little else but blink, the words escaping her before she could stop them.

“Do you have any idea how crazy that sounds?”

Zowie wasn't sure what kind of response she was expecting, but it certainly wasn't the explosion she witnessed.

“I'm not crazy!” Matt bellowed so loud, Zowie shrunk in fear, her eyes tightly closed. She waited for the blow she knew would come, and didn't open her eyes even when his fervent voice reached her ears. “See what you made me do, Zowie? This is all your fault.” Matt said in the same tone he used to use after hitting her, that mixture of soothe and blame that turned the tables on her. “ _You_ made me hit you that time. _You_ made me come after you. You're no good without me, Zowie... no one understands you the way I do.”

Slowly, Zowie opened her eyes. Had she truly believed that once? Had she stooped as low as to actually believe that all he did was nothing but her own fault? She could barely believe it now. All it took was one good look at Matt to understand that _he_ was the problem. She had had her share of guilt in it, yes, but having him hitting her? She had never wanted _that_!

Her eyes skimmed over Matt's features, feeling that now, after so long, she was finally seeing him. He had always been handsome, but years of drug abuse had taken its toll on him, as they had on her. Difference was, Zowie had recovered, and the most obvious physical symptoms were no longer seen. Matt, however, had lost a lot of weight. His cheekbones were sharp and pronounced, and his eyes, red and droopy, had dark circles under them. Zowie tried to picture herself hadn’t Geoff come to her rescue, and a wave of dread trickled inside her.

“I have something for you.” Matt said with a smile that meant to be reassuring, but that only filled her with fear. Then, slipping a hand inside his pocket, he held it open for her a second later. “Just for the old times’ sake, Zow. Like we used to do in the past, no one has to know!”

The wave that hit Zowie when she looked down at Matt's hands took her by surprise and left her completely breathless. She didn't need to ask what it was that the tiny bag contained; she knew it well enough. And her body, knowing exactly what it did, overwhelmed her with a craving she had thought long since gone.

The fear Zowie felt at spotting a tiny bag of heroin in Matt's hand was soon drowned by the pounding of her heart in her ears. She knew very well that, should anyone walk in on them in that instant, they would most likely end up in jail, bringing Orlando more problems that she had ever imagined. And still, all she could think of was the rush, the high she used to feel so long ago, when sticking a needle into her arm meant leaving all her problems and sorrows behind. God knew she had enough problems and concerns now. It couldn't hurt, right? Just once...

But just as the craving got almost impossible to ignore, a picture of Orlando danced before her eyes, and reality hit Zowie like a bucket of ice cold water being dumped on her head. She couldn't be craving the drug... she couldn't! She had recovered and had an implant that was supposed to help her through this. Why was it failing, then? Matt knew her weaknesses and played them well, and Zowie clung to that image of Orlando, to the feeling of his lips on hers, to fight the urge that made her hand itch with the need to grab that tiny little bag.

“No, Matt.”

Her voice was merely a whisper, and God knew it took everything in her to utter those words, but when she did, Zowie felt the strength flowing back into her body. Matt, on the other hand, looked as stunned as never before.

“What did you just say?”

Feeling stronger and firmer, Zowie met his eyes before repeating her earlier words.

“No, Matt. I won't have that. I got out.”

Disbelief coloured Matt's eyes, first with the paleness of shock, then with the red of anger. Lowering himself again so they were face to face once again, his voice was an angry hiss when he spoke.

“I could hit you, Zowie. I could very well finish you off right here, right now, and have your precious pretty boy find you here as nothing but a beat-up pulp.” The threat in his voice was clear and obvious and despite her determination, Zowie shivered and cowered back. He was so close, his breath warmed her face. “But I won't.” He muttered, and shock washed over her. His eyes, however, told a different story. “I want you to live with this uncertainty and constant fear for a long, long time. Until you realise your place is with me, and no one else. I'm very patient, Zowie, and I won't let you off so easily. Even if you don't come back to me, I swear to God you won't be with him either. And you know very well what I can do.”

He was gone just as quickly as he had come, just like that first time. And just like that time, Zowie was left feeling such terror, she could barely think straight. Shaking, she made her way into the hotel so quickly, she nearly knocked a maid over. She heard herself mumbling a quick apology over her shoulder, but didn't notice much else, because above the fear she felt for herself or for Orlando, there was a more powerful one that she couldn't ignore as she rushed into her room: the fear of relapsing into her old habits, one that scared her to death.


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35.**

 

There was no way the recliner was big enough for both, but the space restraints didn’t particularly bother Zowie or Orlando as they lay close together under the sun. If anything, it helped them snuggle even closer, and his right arm confidently pulled her against him, even more so than the confines of the recliner demanded.

A contented sigh escaped Orlando’s lips at that. He felt Zowie's body from head to toe, and a slow smile spread on his lips as the calmness and tranquillity of the moment slipped inside him. It didn’t matter how crazy things were, how much it was demanded from him on set or how much pressure he felt coming from the outside, none of that affected him the minute he closed the door to his house with Zowie by his side. She never demanded anything from him. Zowie never asked to go out, to show off in town hoping people would see them together, and was perfectly happy with doing something as simple as lounging under the late afternoon sun with him.

The smile lingered on his lips as Orlando inhaled Zowie's scent, enjoying the mix of soap, shampoo, and her very own, unique fragrance. He could spend an eternity just like that, feeling the rhythmical rising and falling of her chest, the brushing of her thighs against his, and her soft breathing against his skin. Zowie had a soothing effect on him, and Orlando wasn't ashamed of selfishly wanting all that just to himself. She was the one source of peace amidst the insanity that a big budget production was, and he intended to hold on to that for as long as he could.

Touched with a hint of cheekiness, a grin stretched his lips when his hand brushed Zowie's back through her thin sweater. They had thought they would avoid trouble by keeping their relationship a secret, but now, weeks later, Orlando had to say he rather enjoyed the idea of having something that no one else knew about. Sneaking around, stealing kisses when no one was watching, sharing glances sometimes so intense they made Zowie blush, gave their relationship an additional edge both enjoyed greatly.

Relaxed and happy, Orlando's smile had yet to leave his lips when he, eyes still closed, began to place soft kisses on Zowie's temple, following the line of her light brown hair up and down before tracing her cheekbone. Her face moved, and Orlando didn't need to open his eyes to know that Zowie was smiling; he felt it on her lips when his own descended upon them, light and playful at first, more intense and demanding later.

That was another thing Zowie did to Orlando that he couldn't, neither wanted to control. As soon as their lips met, a potent desire filled his insides, and any other thought that might be occupying his mind until then was promptly discarded. How had he kept himself from doing this for so long? Deep down inside, Orlando never regretted the decision he had made in New Zealand; it had hurt him and had obviously hurt Zowie, but leaving her in any other terms than friendship would have been even worse, given what had happened later. A part of him did regret, however, not having indulged himself at least once. That was why his feelings for her came back full force when they met again in Los Angeles, he realised. There was no more lying to himself then, no reasons other than her own vulnerability to keep Orlando from letting those feelings grow. But as soon as Zowie took the first step that night in his house, after that first kiss, there was no way back. And now, as their bodies shifted on the recliner, his own half covering Zowie's, Orlando let those feelings she awoke inside him take over.

She didn't try to repress the pleasant shiver that shook her from head to toe the moment Orlando positioned himself above her. It wasn't enough, though; not for someone who’d been craving that kind of closeness for years. And it wasn't until he slipped a knee between her own and his hand caressed her tummy through her sweater that Zowie felt something inside her breaking loose. Moaning in his mouth, her arms eagerly encircled Orlando's neck and, pulling him closer to her, she lingeringly pushed herself against him in a silent invitation. One Orlando understood right away.

Zowie knew it wasn’t going to happen there, that it wasn't going to happen that day, but still, every part of her longed, yearned, begged to feel Orlando as close to her as possible. Her own hands, although acquainted with his body already, slid down his strong back, a little cry escaping her lips at the play of the muscles tensing and relaxing under her palms. Even when thin, Orlando had always been strong, but this new him the training had given birth to? It was something Zowie could easily get used to, and as their tongues teased each other, her hands daringly found a path under his t-shirt, palms greedily spreading open against his skin. She wanted to feel him, _all_ of him. She wanted to unlock the mystery of a body she had only seen and felt once, but that had changed so much ever since; a body that made her feel things Zowie wasn't sure she had ever felt before.

And yet, the moment Orlando determined he wanted to return the favour and his hands slid under her sweater and t-shirt, Zowie couldn't help the wave of uneasiness that washed over her, followed by the heat of shame burning on her cheeks. God, how much she hated herself when it happened! God knew Orlando's hands worked a magic on her Zowie had never known before, but as soon as the thought of him discovering the evidence of what she had hidden from him touched her mind, panic and disgust filled her heart. Problem was, all that disgust was solely aimed at herself, at her past, and at what she had done and couldn't either erase or forget.

As if said disgust had opened a door inside her, all that Zowie had managed to forget since entering Orlando's house came flooding back, not leaving room for anything else but panic and shame. Matt was out there, somewhere, and not only did he know everything about her, he had also threatened Orlando. Matt, who had succeeded on making Zowie doubt herself in a way that left her feeling open, bare and vulnerable.

And then there was shame, one that made her inch apart from Orlando with a shuddering breath that told more of the tears that knotted her throat, than of the desire that still pulsated inside her. She prayed to God Orlando could forgive her, for she wasn't sure she could do it herself. He was the most important thing in her life and if she had to put up with Matt and his threats to keep him safe, then Zowie would.

Orlando's own shuddering breath almost tore him inside. Stopping got harder and harder every time, but still, he reminded himself that Zowie needed time. A battle raged inside him whenever it happened, and it was only out of sheer strong will and determination that he managed to have his rational side winning over his most primal voice. It was in times like these that the thought of how badly Matt must have treated Zowie crossed Orlando's mind, filling him with the strongest, most blinding ire he had ever felt. Orlando knew Zowie wanted and enjoyed that proximity and intimacy as much as he did himself, but there was a barrier there that he couldn't cross and that surely only had one source: Matt. Zowie had never mentioned it, but Orlando imagined there was something about her past that stopped her from being intimate with him. And while he was determined to find out what it was in due time, he also wished he could have Matt right before him so he could beat him into a pulp for every single thing he had done to Zowie.

Still, Orlando drew in another shaky breath, his forehead resting against hers as he tried, not only to soothe the wild thumping of his heart, but also to regain control over certain reactions of his body. It took some time, but when Orlando finally felt sure he could look at Zowie with a clearer head, he opened his eyes, his gaze searching her face. Zowie's head was turned away and her eyes were closed, her lower lip caught between her teeth in a way that reminded him too much of that first time in his couch. Running a soft hand down her cheek, he hoped to attract her attention.

And failed.

“It's okay, you know?”

A bright blush of mortification coloured Zowie's cheeks. Yes, Orlando had the best of intentions, but hers didn’t mirror those. If anything, she just wanted to forget the moment she had just ruined had ever happened.

“Look at me, Zowie.”

There was no way out and she knew it. Despite her mortification, shame, and pain, Zowie finally opened her eyes, although locking them with Orlando's wasn't easy at all. She could read the barely tamed desire deep in his dark eyes, and although there was understanding there as well, and a look that told her she could share anything with him, Zowie lingered on the shame she felt at leading him on.

“It's okay.” He repeated. “I understand.”

If only Orlando knew how much pain his words brought her, how they tore at her heart! She couldn't answer even if she tried, so she hugged him instead, pulling him to her until she could once again hide her face in his neck, hoping to conceal her shame before looking up once more.

Orlando didn't say a thing, sensing her need for silence and companionship. His hands smoothed over her hair and her sides, and he didn't know how long they spent there until he finally spoke.

“Do you want to go to town? We could go out, have a cup of coffee...”

Only out of the strongest will, did Zowie manage not to tense in Orlando's arms in the most tell-telling way. Out to town, where Matt could jump on them? There was no way she would allow that. Trying to muster an innocent look, she caressed Orlando's back as she looked up at him.

“Can we stay here?” Hoping her smile didn't come across as phony as it felt to her, she added. “I'm feeling rather selfish today. I already had to share you enough with Eva, and I kind of want you all to myself.”

Orlando knew that there was truth in her words, but that there was also something else that made a gleam of desperation dance deep in her blue eyes. He decided to play along, nonetheless.

“Let's stay here, then.” Grabbing her arm, Orlando stood up and helping her up, then led her inside. “What about something to eat?”

Zowie nodded and smiled, more relieved than she had imagined as she followed him inside. Orlando, however, felt determination stirring inside him. It might not be that afternoon and maybe not even in the next few days, but soon, he would find out what was bothering Zowie, for he had the feeling it was something greater than him or her that hung a shadow over them. A shadow he couldn't allow to win over them.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36.**

 

That was peace in its purest form. And for someone who had been running away from darkness for so long, Zowie couldn't fight a lost battle against the tranquillity that seeped inside her.

Doubts and fears lingered, yes, but Zowie tried her earnest to ignore them, relishing in the warmth of Orlando's body pressed tight against hers. A happy sigh escaped her lips as she snuggled closer to his chest, her back pressed against him as the arm thrown around her waist kept her in place. No that Zowie had any wishes of running away, though. When his bearded chin playfully brushed the delicate skin right under her ear, it elicited a giggle from her as her body tingled from head to toe. Just sharing that moment with him, she realised, relieved some of the burden off her shoulders.

Because Zowie hadn't truly wanted to go out that night. Had it been up to her, they would have spent yet another quiet evening alone at Orlando's, away from everything and everyone. But he insisted, and Zowie had known that denying him would only make him suspicious.

The danger was still there, though. There was a certain sense of safety while on set because Zowie knew no one could get in without a proper authorization, but while out on the town... she had already had enough _surprises_ to want yet another one, especially not with Orlando around. But his mind was set, and Zowie hadn't been able to do a single thing about it.

But now, with his arm around her and the warmth of his chest seeping inside her body, Zowie allowed herself a moment to relax. Why not enjoy her surroundings and the peace that enveloped them? Her face tilted sideways, and her cheek came to a rest against his. His beard brushed her skin ever so slightly, but the pulsing reaction it sent up and down her body was a reminder that Orlando was a man, and one she was immensely attracted to at that.

The sensations inside her, those sentiments that simmered in the background and that Zowie knew only needed a slight brush of Orlando's hand to become a strong fire, were only accentuated by the setting that surrounded them.

Orlando had chosen well, Zowie mused as her eyes scanned the restaurant around her, empty of all people except for them. Soft terracotta walls surrounded them, taking on a slight orange hue in the light, and the window that overlooked the historical, fortified Kasbah of Taourirt made the small restaurant the perfect spot for a romantic, relaxing dinner. In other times a court house, the Dar Kamar, or House of the Moon, had been turned into a hotel where some of Orlando’s cast mates stayed. It had been restored to its former glory, and while a striped carpet covered the obviously newly-installed wooden floor, the beamed ceiling above them showed an impressive reed work in geometrical patterns that had caught Zowie’s eye. Yet, despite the beautiful setting, her eyes kept going back to Orlando.

He looked great in such setting. But then again, he would do so everywhere, Zowie realised as she studied his face. His eyes were lost in the lights of the city spread before them, and the sight of him made her thank God for agreeing into going out with him that night. Yes, many troubles waited for them outside and yes, they risked everything by going out that night, but one look at him reminded Zowie that he was well worth it.

All of a sudden, Zowie felt a warmth spreading inside her that had nothing to do with the one that emanated from his body; burning deep within her, it only increased with every instant spent studying him in the dim light. He looked so good that night! It was an absolutely frivolous thought to have, but there was no way Zowie could stop it. Unabashedly, she let her eyes roam his face, taking in the angle of his nose, his cheekbones, and his eyes as they stared into the distance, his lips set in a pleasant expression. Her hand moved over the arm he had around her waist, and her palm touched the soft fabric of his shirt. The black garment was simple, but the way it hugged his broad shoulders, how it hinted the muscles of his arms and those two buttons undone at the top… all of them were enough for Zowie's mind to wander. How was it possible that a garment so formal, so _every day_ on others looked so good on him? It was then that Zowie realised it wasn't the shirt. It was _him_. Orlando was the one that made it so special and attractive at the same time.

Before she could stop herself, and overwhelmed by the feelings Orlando awoke in her, Zowie posed a soft kiss on his cheek before resting her head on his shoulder. He smiled, and turning to her, he let his own eyes do some wandering of their own until they finally settled on her blue gaze, still locked on him.

“You look deep in thought.” He said, and his voice had both a teasing and questioning edge to it. There was peace in his eyes, as well as an unspoken plea that begged to be answered.

“I was thinking how good you look tonight.” She admitted, her eyes meeting his and never leaving them. “How handsome.”

The flame that came to life in Orlando's eyes caught Zowie by surprise, and a knot of her own desire pooled in her stomach. How was it possible that this man could do such thing to her without even touching her? When he lifted her palm to his mouth and posed a kiss there, her shiver was potent and undeniable. It was so soft and at the same time so intimate, she could have never denied him when his lips descended upon hers, hungry and demanding.

His lips... God, they never ceased to bewitch her! Each time they kissed, no matter how soft, feather-like or intense and full of sentiment it was, Zowie was always rendered speechless, her mind reduced to a jumble of tangled thoughts. And yet, no matter what, Zowie wouldn't change that for anything in the world.

But she wasn't the only one that had craved that kind of close contact for so long. Like a moth to a flame, Orlando felt drawn to her at all times, and sometimes, he risked everything to feel her soft lips yielding under his just one more time. He wanted more and he knew Zowie did too, but that barrier that invariably came to life within her every time… it hovered over him even now, as their kiss deepened and grew more intense. That was why he slowly, albeit reluctantly, brought it to an end. None of them wanted to let go. None of them wanted that magic moment to end, but until it was safe to let everyone know what was going on between them, they would have to accept it.

They lingered, though. Until the lights illuminating the city below them grew more scarce, until the noise in the streets died down, they did all they could to make the moment last. Then, as they walked away, Orlando held her close and Zowie revelled on the feeling of his warmth, wanting to absorb as much of it as she could. What else would get her through a lonely night in a hotel room, otherwise?

Orlando's thoughts followed the same path, and he dreaded having to go back to a house that was much too big and lonely for him. Would he ever get to spend the night with Zowie, holding her close as she slept? Right now, it seemed the kind of luxury he would never be able to afford, and the feeling only left him wanting more and more.

Deep in thought, and wanting to relish on those last moments together before Orlando dropped Zowie off at her hotel, they made two silent figures that slowly walked towards the car. Two figures so caught up in their own world, they didn't notice the dark shadow that approached them from the side until it stepped right before them.

At first, Zowie felt the sudden tension taking over Orlando's body, and concern rose inside her like a wave. What could possibly be happening that his past relaxation and peace had left him so suddenly? Looking up, she found his dark eyes trained on something before them. Curious, she followed her gaze, but the moment her eyes met a dark, sardonic, yet threatening face, her heart stopped beating.

For a brief moment, her brain stopped working, just to be overflowed with information and terror a second later. No... no! The words almost left her lips, full of fear and despair. Matt must have read the emotions in her eyes, for the wicked smile that touched his lips was as evil as she now knew he was.

“Is there anything I can do for you?”

Orlando's voice sounded calm but guarded, and had Zowie been able to tear her eyes from Matt, she would have noticed that Orlando was trying his earnest to be polite. Not nice, just simply polite enough not to bring any problems upon themselves. Panic pooled in her stomach. God, he had no idea! Orlando had no idea that the man standing before them was the same one he had vowed to kill if he ever got the chance to lay his hands on him!

The panic inside her suddenly overwhelmed her, and Zowie had to fight the pressure she felt in her chest, the sudden tightening of her throat, all symptoms she hadn't felt in months. She couldn't let that happen, couldn't let Orlando be true to his word. Even if she wanted nothing but for Matt to be out of her life, she would never have Orland fighting him. Not only would she die if something happened to him, Zowie also knew Matt would never play fair, so he probably had an ace up his sleeve he was willing to use at any time.

That was why Zowie began to push Orlando aside towards the parking lot, and why she almost choked with fear when he remained stubbornly in his place. And why she felt her heart would explode from beating so hard when Matt gave them both a perverse smile, one that told her how much he looked forward to the outcome of that surprise meeting.

“I suppose I should introduce myself. Matt Hudson.” He said, his blue eyes never leaving Orlando's, his perverse smile turning his face into a mask that would forever inhabit in Zowie's nightmares. When the name didn't ring any bells in Orlando’s mind and he stood there without giving him any signs of recognition, Matt added in a voice that sent a shiver of terror down Zowie's spine. “Zowie's boyfriend.”

Orlando hadn't been sure what that guy wanted when he approached them. Focused as he was on Zowie, he had never seen him coming, and had tried his best to appear polite, yet curt, when he stood on their way. Yet, the moment the words _“Zowie's boyfriend”_ left his lips, Orlando felt such rush of fury washing over him, his body became as stiff as a board. This man had beaten Zowie up, leaving her for dead in an alleyway in Los Angeles. Hadn't he had enough? Had he come here to finish up what he had started in America?

His first reaction was purely instinctive; as soon as the words Matt had spoken finally sank into his brain, Orlando swiftly pushed Zowie behind his back. He wasn't the aggressive kind of guy and could barely remember the last time he had got into a fight, but to get to Zowie, Matt would have to get past him first. And God knew Orlando wasn't going to go down without a fight!

“What the hell are you doing here?” He spat, fury coating his every word. He couldn't believe that guy's nerve! Did he think himself so omnipotent that he could follow Zowie everywhere and nothing would happen to him? They should have been firmer, Orlando and Geoff, when it came to convincing Zowie of pressing charges against Matt. At the very least, he wouldn't be standing before them in that instant, halfway around the world from California.

Yet, Matt wasn't fazed in the slightest by Orlando's rage and his obviously aggressive stance. What did anger him, however, was how protective he acted towards Zowie, and how easily she accepted his unspoken order of assuming her place behind him. That gesture, that right Orlando seemed to think he had over her and, above all, how Zowie said nothing about it, sparked his own rage to life.

He hadn't meant to go all the way that night; tired of the little mind games he was playing on Zowie, Matt had decided to take things up a notch and include Orlando in it. The idea of them together wasn't something he had accepted, and he merely considered it as some sort of middle ground he had to go through before getting Zowie back. Now, however, seeing with his own eyes what was truly going on had lit a fury inside him that Matt couldn't control and that pushed him to the limit. He was going to get Zowie back. And if he didn't, then he would make damn sure Orlando didn't have her either.

“Wait... does that mean she didn't tell you?” Cocking his head just barely, he eyed Zowie as she glanced fearfully at him from behind Orlando's back, and then tsked her admonishingly. “That's bad, Zowie. You don't keep secrets from your boyfriend, no matter how much of a history you have of doing precisely that.”

The tone he used was full of intention, and the look he gave her couldn't possibly be ignored. Zowie wished she could pledge ignorance, but there was no way out. Having once kept Geoff a secret from Matt, this was his not-so-subtle reminder of what happened when she did such thing. But it wasn’t just that, and apprehension rose to unknown levels inside her. Why else would Matt reveal their past meetings if he didn't intend on making them sound like worst thing possible? He wanted Orlando to be mad at her, mad enough to hopefully dump her, and the tension she could see in his shoulders made fear take over her heart. What if Matt succeeded? What if, after longing to be by Orlando’s side for so long, her past mistakes finally ruined it all? Tears stung in her eyes as panic knotted her throat. She wanted to speak, say anything so things wouldn't sound and look so bad, but Matt beat her at it.

“Zowie and I have met a couple of times. Not that you need to worry about it.” He hurried to add in a fake reassuring tone that almost made her sick. “She's been perfectly loyal and faithful to you. Who knows what could have happened had I tried a little harder, though.”

The growl rose from deep within Orlando, full of the rage that filled every inch of his body. He wanted to kill Matt, wanted to wring his hands around that bastard's neck until he wiped that perverse, satisfied smirk off his face. But, above all, until Orlando himself could get rid of the uneasiness that began to gnaw at his insides. He trusted Zowie, believed in her but, why hadn't she told him about Matt? Did she still have feelings for that guy? Was that why she didn't dare to take the next step in their relationship? As if sensing the struggle inside him, Zowie's voice pleaded from behind him.

“Please, Orlando... don't listen to him! He's lying!”

Without taking his eyes from Matt, Orlando turned his face sideways so Zowie knew he was addressing to her.

“Have you seen him before? I mean here, in Morocco?”

Zowie's heart stopped beating at Orlando's questions. Out of the corner of her eye she could see the pleased expression in Matt's face, and impotence coursed through her veins. No, no, no! That couldn't be happening! Orlando couldn't possibly believe Matt and not her!

“Have you, Zowie?”

Torn in two and trapped in her worst nightmare, Zowie studied Orlando. Every line in that handsome face was tense, and those same features that had stared at her with adoration and something akin to love minutes ago, were now full of anxiety, and even suspicions that tore at her heart.

The pain Zowie felt was like a cold hand having her heart on a vice grip. What should she do? Should she answer truthfully or should she lie, hoping Orlando would believe her? There were only two paths to follow, and each one looked grimmer than the other. Regardless of which one she took, Orlando would be disappointed, and what they had would be seriously affected after that night. Zowie’s shoulder’s sagged as a sudden lightning of agony pierced her heart. So little time together... so little joy!

“I have, yes.” Admitting her lie, her _omission_ , was the hardest thing Zowie had ever done. Harder even than admitting she had a drug problem or that Matt had beaten her up, for now she knew that speaking those words could very well mean the end of the one beautiful, pure thing she had had in a long, long time.

She had ruined it all. She had failed.

Her head was low with shame, and although she couldn't see the expression in Orlando's face when he spoke, the tension in his words lashed new wounds in her heart.

“How many times?”

Zowie visibly recoiled at how tight and edgy his voice had sounded. She remembered cowering from his anger once, thinking he would hurt her like Matt used to, and how shaken Orlando had been by it. She knew he would never be physically violent with her, but he didn't need to; the hint of suspicions she could hear in his words was all it took for her entire body to shake with terror. Matt had planted an evil seed in Orlando's heart she would have to fight against with all her honesty and sincerity; she wasn't sure, however, how that would work after admitting having lied to him.

“Twice.” She finally said, and the sudden tension of Orlando's shoulders, the tightening of his hands into fists prompted her to add hurriedly. “I never sought him, Orlando... I swear! He was there every time. He's been chasing after me ever since!”

There were so many other things Zowie could have said but, would they work? She desperately clung to the hope that the feelings she had seen burning in Orlando's eyes for the past weeks couldn't disappear so hastily, that no matter how hard Matt tried, Orlando knew he could trust her. But when he didn't say a thing, she began to wonder whether it wasn't her own enamoured mind what had seen things in Orlando that actually weren't there.

“You can't blame a guy for wanting to check on his girlfriend.” Matt said suddenly, his sardonic voice having the same effect on Zowie as that of a nail against a blackboard. “But relax. Somewhere down the line, Zowie here became a total bore. She used to be really happy to see me before, you know? Always glad to have me around and everything, but now... it's a good thing I know her so well. And that I can be very, _very_ persuasive.”

If Orlando thought he had been furious before, the dark emotion that took over him in that instant put that previous one to utter shame. Rage filled every inch of his body, and he would never know how he managed to keep his hands away from Matt, because every word the other man said only served to inflame his anger further and further.

Matt wasn't only being plain insulting towards Zowie with that mention of their previous relationship, of details Orlando wasn't sure he even wanted to know; he was also making obvious that although Zowie hadn't wanted to be with him, he had found the way to persuade her. Orlando imagined there was only one way someone like Matt, someone who had hurt her so badly and that Zowie had refused to press charges against in hopes of never seeing again, could persuade her to stay in his presence long enough, and that was violence.

“You bastard!” Orlando roared, a red haze clouding his eyes. He took a step forward, ready to advance on Matt and unleash his fury on him, but a pair of pleading hands gripped his arm so tightly, the feeling managed to filter through his rage. Zowie. Orlando glanced over his shoulder.

“Orlando, no! Please don't do this! Please!”

He stared down at her, and what he saw in her face tore his heart in two very different directions. A plea was written all over her but, above all, Orlando could read the terror and dread that surely filled her heart. Zowie feared for him, that was clear, but every word that came out of Matt's mouth made it perfectly obvious that there were many, many things Orlando still didn't know about her. He had opened his heart and soul to her, had done everything he could to help her, and still Zowie kept secrets from him? That was why she had been acting so strangely the past few days, he realised, because Matt was in town. Because Matt was threatening her and because, if his words could be believed, he had even been violent with her. How could she keep something like that from him?

But he wasn't going to bring that up now. Even if he was torn and confused, Orlando knew he couldn't give Matt the idea that he was winning. Moreover, no matter how much of his own anger could be directed at Zowie, at her attempts of handling everything on her own when she obviously couldn't, he still would do anything to protect her.

It took everything in him for Orlando to take a step back, and if the way he tugged his hand free of Zowie's grip was sharper than he had expected, he didn't notice it. He might have strong feelings for her, but the disappointment he felt in that instant? It didn't allow him to be any gentler.

“She's got quite a hold on you, doesn't she, Orlando?” Matt teased sarcastically. “She’s one hell of a fuck, isn’t she? She was always so easy… so fucking easy. You show her a little attention and bam! She’s flat on her back, legs spread and all.”

The crudity in his words, the way he so blatantly exposed a side of her that should have remained private, made Zowie sick to her stomach. And ashamed. So very ashamed! She chanced a quick look at Orlando, and the look on his face hurt more than the sharp way he had freed himself from her. His features were so tense they looked as if they had been carved in stone, and so unreadable, countless possibilities crossed her mind. Was he disgusted? Was he asking himself what on earth he was doing with someone as problematic as her? Did Orlando regret being with her at all?

Zowie wanted to touch him, but her hands fell limply at her sides instead. If she tried to reach him and Orlando rejected her once again… then Zowie would die. All her fears and anxieties came back to her, hitting her with the strength of a tidal wave. Matt should have succeeded, Zowie told to herself. She wasn't good. She ruined every single thing she touched! Her parents had ended up in a divorce because William had gone back to them because of her and Jared, and her relationship with Orlando was crushing down to pieces. Everything she touched was tainted and ruined. Why had she survived, then? Just to keep on making mistakes that would make her life unbearable?

“You're sick.” Orlando said, his voice full of disbelief and disgust. This guy… he didn’t even need to raise a hand to be violent; his words were coated with such venom, they could easily kill. And the way he exposed details of Zowie's life as if everyone had the right to know... it made him sick to his stomach. Orlando wanted to turn and see how Zowie had taken Matt's statement, but he was afraid that, should he turn his back on him even for a second, the other man would attack. So keeping his eyes on him, he asked the question that had been echoing in his mind ever since Matt had showed up. “Why are you even here, anyway?”

Matt rolled his eyes, as if annoyed Orlando didn't get what he was up to right away.

“To take Zowie home with me, where she belongs. She's mine, and I always take care of what's mine.”

Orlando blinked in shock, barely believing what he was hearing.

“You're insane.” He shot back. “You made it perfectly clear how much you _didn't_ want her when you left her for dead in an alleyway in Los Angeles!”

Matt's blue eyes narrowed, and the evil glint in them pierced through Orlando when he spoke in a cold voice.

“What I do with Zowie is none of your business. What you do with her, however, is quite the opposite. What do you think people will say when they find out you're seeing someone else's girlfriend? That she's a junkie?” Taking a step forward, Matt continued. “You have no idea the number of stories about her that I can sell to the press. Which one would you prefer to see on the front cover of a newspaper first, how she loved to get high before sex, or how many times she'd come down just to find a needle in her arm and having no recollection of what she had done? I have plenty of both, believe me. It's up to you.”

Matt enjoyed with perverse pleasure the disgust that first coloured Orlando's face, and then the fear that replaced it, and how those same emotions played on Zowie's own face. He knew exactly which cards to play, and he would play them all.

“I heard you already got enough problems in Spain with that other girl.” He said nonchalantly. “I'm sure you don't want the press to find out all these dirty secrets about Zowie too, do you? Or just how much she still wants drugs, for example. I've seen it with my own eyes here in Morocco, and I'm sure a good journalist would make one hell of a story out of that. So if I were you, I'd do you both and Zowie a favour, and I'd let her come with me before this gets really, really ugly. And believe me, I'm not just making things up... Zowie here knows exactly what happens when things don't come out the way I want them to.”

Zowie's gasp of shock and fear touched his ears, but Orlando barely heard it. He was sick to his stomach, and the fear and anger that coiled inside him made a combination that was far from good. Matt had laid it all out in the open. With very few words, he had managed to let Orlando into things Zowie hadn't mentioned, and that for some reason, he hadn't pushed her into telling him either, and now he was disgusted. What kind of man Matt was? The silliness of his own question hit him an instant later. Matt couldn't even be labelled as a man; he was solely a pathetic excuse of one, and the way he threatened to sell all those sordid stories to the press was a clear indication of how far gone he was. However, and even though the idea of anyone getting a hold of those stories twisted his stomach with concern, anger was far too powerful to be ignored.

One thought kept circling his mind, nonetheless, shouting at him in a way that was almost mocking. Matt had offered Zowie drugs. Orlando didn't know the specifics; God knew he _didn't_ want to, but if anything of what Matt had said could be believed, that was it. So she hadn’t just hid Matt’s presence from him, he mused. Had she accepted them? Had she taken drugs behind his back, even knowing how hard he and above all Geoff had fought to help her get out of that? Anger, fear and suspicions made for a deadly combination, and Orlando did the one thing that seemed right in that instant: he jumped Matt, ready to unload every bit of his fury on him.

Matt wasn't the least surprised when Orlando attacked him; if anything, he had been expecting it. In his feverish, altered mind, he never took into consideration that, although almost the same height, Orlando had a built Matt had never had in his life, and he responded to every blow, giving as much as he took.

But as Matt was prisoner to the arrogance the drugs gave him and Orlando gave in to the fury that raged inside him, Zowie could do little else but stand aside, eyes wide, mouth open, heart thundering in her chest. A million thoughts bounced madly in her mind and for long seconds, it was impossible for her to make any coherent sense out of them. Not until realisation hit her so hard, she gasped for breath before jumping into the fight without a second though.

“Orlando, stop! Please, stop, you have to let him go! You can't get in trouble!”

Not for a second did Zowie stop to consider that she was getting in the middle of a fight between two furious men that would surely strike at her without even seeing her; she only knew she _had_ to stop them. She had to stop Orlando from doing something so bad, it would get him into more trouble than he could possibly handle. And not just that. She knew Matt, she knew how he fought his battles, and while Orlando had gone into it barehanded, Zowie truly doubted Matt had done the same thing. If anything happened to Orlando because of her... fear gripped Zowie's heart. She had to stop him!

But none of them heard her, lost as they were on their own worlds. Still, Zowie didn't give up and desperately, she clung to Orlando's waist, trying to push him away to no avail. She didn't notice the tears that streamed down her cheeks, nor how the nails of one hand clawed at the other, leaving bloody marks there as she tried her hardest to pull Orlando away. Zowie cried, screamed, even tried to punch Matt at one point, but nothing worked, and when her chest began to tighten, when she began to feel that horrible sensation of being smothered, she cried out for help. She didn't know a single word in Arabic, but she prayed for the word _help_ to be universal enough for the people around them to understand.

Long, eternal instants passed until Zowie felt strong hands pulling Orlando and Matt apart, taking them in opposite directions as what sounded like warnings in Arabic filled the night air around them. Her relief was such she could have collapsed to her knees, but the moment she met Matt’s eyes as he was being dragged away, the most terrifying sense of déjà vu filled her heart. She knew that dark and threatening expression well, for it was the same one he had worn as he tried to get rid of her for good in Los Angeles.

None of the men gave in easily, and those who held them had to struggle to keep them in place. Zowie felt shaken to her very core after what she had just witnessed, and when she turned to Orlando, noticing the murderous gleam in his eyes as they settled on Matt’s retreating form, she knew everything was ruined. She still decided to take one last gamble, though, and taking his face between her palms, she forced his eyes to focus on her.

Zowie had to call Orlando’s name repeatedly before he finally snapped out of his fury long enough to look at her. For a brief moment, her gaze frantically scanned his face, relief finding its way to her heart when she noticed that he only had minor cuts, wounds that would be easily covered with the proper make up. When Orlando finally looked into her eyes, however, what she saw in them made the ice of terror spread inside her at a dizzying pace. With Matt out of his sight, Orlando’s fury was no longer aimed at him - it was directed solely at her. But it wasn’t just fury what darkened his eyes; there was disgust in there, and suspicions too, and a sob escaped Zowie's mouth at the sight.

Why? Why did Matt insist on getting her back? Did he want to kill her so badly he had to flight to Morocco to find her? In that instant, seeing the look in Orlando’s eyes, Zowie once again felt Matt should have finished her off in Los Angeles. She wasn't worth the problems she put everyone through!

Only a voice speaking in broken English and asking her permission to call the police could snap Zowie out of the haze of misery she was in, and her heart froze for an instant as the words fell into place. Bring the police in, with all the troubles the production had already gone through with terror threats and paparazzi? That would be the end of it.

Never, as she tried to dissuade the man from calling the authorities, did Orlando say a word. His burning gaze remained fixed on her the entire time, but Zowie delayed the moment when she would look up at him for as long as she could. Why would she rush such thing, when she was sure she would see little else in those eyes she loved but pure hatred and despise towards her? But she couldn’t avoid the final confrontation for good. When the men finally walked away, leaving them alone, Zowie had no choice but to look up at Orlando, and the tears that had been burning in her eyes spilled down her cheeks when she met his gaze. A storm had been unleashed in his eyes, a storm made of the darkest, most horrible feelings she could think of.

Sure now that she had ruined everything, Zowie quickly wiped her tears and turned around, ready to walk away. She didn't make it very far, though; an instant later, a strong hand gripped her by the elbow and began to drag her away at a hasty pace she had trouble falling into rhythm with.

She looked up at him. The fury in Orlando's face hadn't diminished one bit and he didn't look at her as he led her to the car, but his utter silence filled Zowie with uneasiness. She would never fear Orlando, but the question that left her lips begged to be asked.

“Where...” Zowie tried to swallow the knot that blocked her throat. “Where are you taking me?”

Orlando didn't look at her as he opened the door of the car for her.

“Home.” He responded in a tight voice. “You've got some serious explaining to do.”


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37.**

 

Never had silence seem so powerful and overbearing to Zowie, perhaps because she had never been subjected to it in such a total and complete way before. In New Zealand, there had always been noise, music and voices that had made her feel like she belonged there. Even in Los Angeles whatever moments of quietness she had experienced had been sought after. But here in Morocco, in Orlando's beautiful house, Zowie was experiencing first-hand what it was like to be prisoner to an absolute uncertainty, and to the torture of her own rampant thoughts.

Orlando had yet to say a word, but his silence, and the aura of tension that surrounded him, terrified Zowie. Upon discovering the truth about her father, she had sheltered herself in her anger in order to cope with the grief that shredded her heart but, what now? This wasn’t someone else’s doing… it was hers! What could she say to make things right? Was there even something she could say at all? Considering the way Orlando's hands had gripped the steering wheel or the steely tightness of his features as he drove, not much could be said.

It turned out he had more than the few scratches Zowie had seen in the dim light of the restaurant's parking lot; there was a slight swelling on the left side of his jaw that she hoped wouldn't grow, and a cut in his left eyebrow that went a little beyond superficial. She would have loved to help him clean and tend to those wounds, but he hadn't let her. Orlando hadn't even asked for her help to begin with; he had simply got the first aid kit in his bathroom and was now cleaning his wounds as Zowie sat on his bed, staring at him through the open door. Surely, she mused, he feared she would run away before explaining things to him if he as much as left her an opening.

Zowie looked around, searching for something in that familiar room that helped her ease the tension that knotted her whole body, and failing miserably at that. Her eyes skimmed over the dark brown duvet, the pale yellow walls, the dark furniture that gave the room a masculine feeling. The bed she sat on was more comfortable than any other she had tried before, but she might as well have been sitting on jagged rocks, for the uneasiness inside her barely allowed her to sit still. Then, to top it all, there was that lingering sensation inside her that told her a panic attack was just around the corner, no matter how hard she tried to keep it at bay.

The water stopped running in the bathroom, and Zowie was roughly jerked back to the here and now when Orlando approached her. His movements were stiff, but whether due to his anger or the punches he had received, she didn't know. Zowie’s heart begged to ask him how he felt, but the rational side of her had the feeling her concern wouldn’t be much welcome. So sitting still instead, her eyebrows rose in surprise when Orlando took her left hand in his and a stinging there caught her attention. Shocked, she tried to tug her hand free until he spoke.

“You've been bleeding since we left that place. Sit still.”

Her heart churned at the tight words, at the barely veiled anger in them. Taking a deep breath, she looked down at her own hand, and was surprised to find long scratches there. How had that happened? When Zowie looked at her other hand and saw the dried blood crusted under her nails, she remembered her failed attempts of ending the fight.

“Thank you.” She mumbled shyly when he finished.

He didn't answer. Gathering everything, he put the items inside the box and then closed it a little more harshly than necessary, making Zowie wince and lower her head. That was the end and she knew it, but Zowie still hoped to come out of it with just enough of her heart in one piece to carry on living – or surviving – as well as she could.

“Why, Zowie? Why did you never tell me about this?”

Never before had Zowie had such a hard time meeting Orlando's gaze. Not once, not even when he was a complete stranger to her, had she felt embarrassed or shy around him. Long ago, Zowie had been a strong, confident girl, capable of walking up to him and introducing herself, unable to stand the idea of letting a chance like that slip away. Now, four years and many traumatising moments later, her blue gaze shied away from those eyes she had lost herself in so many times before, eyes she loved for their warmth and their expressiveness. She dreaded what she would see in them now, and the feeling was only intensified when, full of fear, Zowie finally lifted her gaze only to find Orlando's brown eyes dull with mistrust and suspicions. Her heart broke in that instant, and she wondered how she would survive after what she was sure would happen that night.

The answer came instantly to her mind, echoing in her ears in a way that couldn't be ignored. _With complete honesty_ , her inner voice told her. If she wanted Orlando to be able to look past his obvious anger and doubts, then she would have to be totally and completely honest with him. No more secrets and no more half-truths, not if she wanted to hold enough self-respect after that night to carry on with her life as normally as possible.

“Were you protecting him?”

Orlando's question caught her so completely by surprise, Zowie could do little else but fix her wide eyes on his, her jaw dropping in shock.

“Protecting him?” Stunned, Zowie could barely voice the words that eagerly struggled to leave her mouth.

“Why else wouldn't you tell me Matt was here, then?”

Zowie had to fight the sudden tightness in her chest. Was this what her stupidity had caused? Had she single-handedly pushed Orlando away by holding so many things from him? Tears stung in her eyes, but she blinked them away before answering.

“I would never do such thing! I was just stupid enough to believe that I could handle him, that I could keep him under control and-”

“Safe? That you could keep Matt safe?” Orlando persisted. “Is that why you refused to press charges against him in Los Angeles, Zowie? Because, despite everything he's done to you, you still have feelings for him?”

His words were harsh and full of horrible implications, but Orlando couldn't, for the life of him, lighten them up in the very least. Even if he was being hurtful, and he could tell that by the way Zowie's eyes reddened with tears she stubbornly refused to shed, still he couldn't hold that side of himself back, for it was fear speaking for him. Pure and absolute fear that was taking him to places he had never visited before, and that tortured his mind with visions of the worse possible outcomes. Because he loved Zowie, and if she admitted having any feelings for Matt, then Orlando knew it would be a blow he had no idea how to withstand.

It had come to him as a sudden revelation, almost like an epiphany. As they shared that intimate dinner at the restaurant just an hour ago, as he held Zowie in his arms, realisation of his feelings for her had filtered in his heart, filling him with a sensation of warmth and peace he had never felt before in his life. He hadn't wanted to analyse it then, simply letting his emotions lead him to a kiss that had felt as intense as no other before; a kiss that had left Orlando in a state of complete vulnerability that now threatened to tear him apart.

“Orlando, that guy tried to kill me!” Zowie argued, her voice pitched with disbelief. “You know what I feel when I see him? _Terror_. I thought putting an ocean between us, disappearing from his life would work, but it obviously didn't. And when he showed up here, all I could think of was, yes, my life was in danger, but yours too. And I when I saw him tonight, when I saw the two of you fighting...” Zowie shivered, the terror she had spoken of filling her once again. “You don't know him like I do, Orlando. You don't know how extreme he is.”

“I think I have a pretty good idea.” Was Orlando’s sharp, meaningful response. He wasn't talking about himself and his few cuts and swollen jaw; he was talking about her narrow escape. “But you still haven't told me why you didn't let me know he was in the country.”

At that, Zowie let out a loud sigh.

“Because I didn't want to bring you any more trouble. What do you think the producers would say if they found out my ex-boyfriend is in town, especially when his intentions aren't exactly good to begin with? There's already been so many troubles, I didn't want to make things even worse. That's why I've been acting so weird. I’ve been trying my best to keep you safe.”

Her pleading eyes met his, and although Zowie tried to read him, Orlando's were so guarded, there was no chance of deciphering what was in his mind, and tears stung in her own once again. Ever since quitting drugs, every single emotion had become a thousand times more intense and powerful, and Orlando's mistrust cut her like a knife. She felt like a raw, open nerve, vulnerable and so, so easy to destroy!

“How long has this been going on?” Orlando asked. Although some of the tension had eased at her admission, he still refused to let his guard down.

With a low voice, Zowie recounted her two previous meetings with Matt with careful attention to detail. When it came to telling him about the drugs Matt had offered her, however, her voice faltered, and Zowie had to take a deep breath before finishing her story.

“He said he wanted me to live in fear and he succeeded, but after that, I didn't fear him as much as I feared myself.” Looking into Orlando's eyes, Zowie felt she was bleeding inside at how hard it was for her to share her innermost fears with him. “I wanted to, Orlando. For a second, I craved the drug so bad I almost caved in. I feared Matt and his plans so much, a part of me just wanted to run away and hide by taking drugs like I used to do. I wanted it so badly and I felt weak... so weak!”

A single tear ran down her cheek, and although Zowie rapidly brushed it away, Orlando noticed nonetheless, and it brought a wave of pain to his heart. She had always appeared so strong, so sure of her intentions of cleaning herself up, that he had never imagined how weak she must have felt at being faced with her worse temptation and biggest weakness. The urge to take her in his arms and tell her everything was alright, that Matt wouldn't bother them anymore was strong, but he held himself back, unsure as to what he expected to finally offer Zowie the support she so obviously needed.

“He didn't know I have the implant, you know? That no matter what, the drug wouldn't have worked. Still... I'm not supposed to want it so badly to be willing to throw everything away just to get high one last time!” Her voice held every ounce of the fear, the desperation and despair Zowie felt at her weakness. Burying her face in her hands, she finally added in a despondent tone. “I'm a disaster, Orlando. God... Matt should have succeeded.”

A frown darkened Orlando's features with confusion and dread.

“Succeeded?” He asked, unable to hold himself back. “Succeed at what?”

Zowie lifted her face, her blue eyes as open and unguarded as they had never been before.

“At killing me, Orlando. I'm not worth the problems I put everyone through.”

A sheer terror as powerful as nothing he had ever felt before filled every inch of Orlando's body. Zowie couldn't possibly be thinking that! Stunned, he realised he was finally seeing a side of her he had never even begun to contemplate: the Zowie she hid deep inside, the insecure one that she had concealed with drugs and lies to make others around her feel happy and contented. The one that felt so unworthy of everything, she thought Matt shouldn't have walked away from her a minute too soon in Los Angeles, finishing off his plans so all her pain could end there.

Hot tears prickled in his eyes. Orlando couldn't remember when he had last cried, but when Zowie's own tears began to flow, he knew he wasn’t far from following. He would never be afraid to cry in front of Zowie, of letting her see exactly how he felt, but seeing her pain, hearing her words, had successfully erased whatever suspicions still lingered in his mind. While he understood her need to keep him safe and from worrying, Orlando knew not long would pass until they sat down and had a serious talk about that habit of hers. Keeping those hurtful things to herself would do her no good, and she had to understand, for once and for all, that he was there to help her, to listen, and to share the burdens with her. He should have pushed her further, he realised; it had taken Zowie to be faced with her worst fears to finally get her talking about it.

But all those things could wait, and Orlando did the one thing his heart begged him to: he took her in his arms. There were so many things he wanted to say... that he was there, that he understood. That yes, fear had got the best of him for a while, but now that all the answers had been laid out in the open, there was nothing else he wanted to do but to help her overcome her issues with even more determination than before.

The moment Zowie felt Orlando's arms sliding around her and holding her tight, she broke down, and sobs wrecked her body. Meeting Matt, him fighting with Orlando and then going through the most torturing uncertainty of her life had brought such tension to her body, it now shook so hard she found it difficult to breathe. For a moment, she feared the panic attack she had felt brushing her with its fingers ever since Matt had showed up had finally grabbed a hold of her. But feeling Orlando holding her tight, hearing the reassuring words he spoke in her ear in a soft voice made relief wash over her, and sent a renewed wave of love for him up and down her entire being, filling her with hope. If they had gone through all that and still Orlando wanted her, then something really strong was growing between them. Something Zowie didn't dare to name, not wanting to build her hopes so high.

“I wanted to accept the drugs, Orlando.” Zowie murmured as sobs shook her. “My whole body cried for it, my brain begged me to, but I couldn't do it. I couldn't take it.” Taking a deep breath, Zowie locked eyes with him and then sentenced. “I saw your face, saw the pain I would cause you and I couldn't do it. I couldn't hurt you no matter what.”

The honesty in her face, the words she had spoken, they all hit Orlando so powerfully, he could do little else but stare at Zowie as waves of conflicting emotions crashed inside him. There was urge and fear and joy, emotions that tore at him in different directions. Hearing in her words how important he was to her filled Orlando with such joy it almost overwhelmed him, one that urged him to take her in his arms and kiss, her hold her and show her how much he loved her in every possible way, but it also brought fear. Fear of reading too much into a situation, fear of getting too ahead of himself and end up broken-hearted.

But Orlando wasn't as powerful as to resist what was quickly rising inside him, and taking the next step, he did the one thing his heart cried out for him to do: he kissed Zowie with all the love he felt.

Her surprise was almost overwhelming, leaving Zowie wide-eyed and as still as a statue when Orlando's lips first descended upon hers. There was such intensity in his kiss, such emotion, Zowie's eyes began to drift close and her mind, until then lost in questions, lost track of her thoughts as the powerful sensations that were building within her began to grow.

This kiss... there was something different to it. Orlando had always been gentle and considerate, but this time there was urgency in his lips and in the way his arms held her close. He seemed to want to become a part of her, and after all the turmoil they had gone through, Zowie wanted nothing but to give him exactly that. She needed his touch, his kiss, his reassurance that, despite all the mistakes she had made, what they had hadn't died, that she hadn't destroyed yet another thing with her carelessness and stupidity. That he, just as she had imagined so long ago, would finally make everything right.

She held nothing back. When Orlando's kiss deepened and his tongue played with hers, she gave as much as she took. When he gently yet determinedly laid her down on her back on the soft mattress, Zowie shuddered with joy. And when his hands, soft, eager and yet experienced, slid under her silky top and sampled the warmth of her skin, her small cry of joy mingled with his own groan of delight. God, she wanted this so much... she craved for it! More than she had ever craved any drug, her body cried for Orlando's touch, for his proximity. This was reassurance; this was her world becoming right for once and for all.

Nonetheless, there were matters that, no matter how pleasurable it was to feel Orlando's thigh parting hers, or how confidently he positioned himself there, couldn't be ignored. Like her scars, for example. But she couldn't stop him – Zowie couldn't bring that magic moment to an end. She needed him as much as he obviously did her, and she would rather die than push him away. That was why her hand, which had until then been tangled in Orlando's hair, blindly reached for the bedside table and upon finding the switch of the lamp Orlando had lit when entering the room, turned it off. The room was suddenly flooded with darkness, with nothing but the dim glow of the moonlight filtering through the window. Orlando noticed it, but his question came in the form of a softer kiss, one Zowie soon returned with an intensity he couldn't ignore.

The moment grew, their passion grew, and soon Zowie wore nothing but her jeans, her caftan-like silk top falling to the floor with a whisper full of promises, allowing Orlando's hands to acquaint themselves with the skin that had been hidden to him for so long. Their lips parted and even in the dark, Zowie could see the awed, almost reverent expression on his face as his hands caressed her belly and rib cage before setting, at last, on her naked breasts.

Zowie's cry echoed with delight, and those notes in her voice made Orlando shiver as a potent desire built up inside him. She was just as he had pictured all those times his imagination had got the best of him, torturing him with images of Zowie, of them together, of her touch and how she would feel when his own hands finally got to touch her. And yet, this was so much more! Zowie was warm, soft, beautiful... perfect for him. He wanted that moment to be perfect, wanted it to be everything Zowie had ever desired and more, but God knew how badly he wanted her. He worried for a minute, trying to find it within him to hold himself back enough, but the moment Zowie began to impatiently tug at his shirt, not having the patience to unbutton it and simply wanting to slide it over his head, he knew her urgency matched his own.

Orlando eased away from Zowie just enough time to allow her a victory over his shirt, but as soon as the garment joined her top on the floor, he pulled her close and captured her lips once again. None of them had expected, however, the powerful effect the first contact of their skins would have on them.

Their bodies burnt as soon as they touched each other. Orlando's groan rose from deep within him, and he hid his face on the curve of Zowie's neck, panting at the intensity of his reaction. He could feel her softness all over, and the swell of her breasts pushing against him was robbing him of his breath.

Zowie, on the other hand, clung to him, her own breath shallow as her mind whirled. Long gone where the dark memories of their first time so long ago, swiftly replaced by each sigh, each touch, each second his skin seared hers, each ragged breath Orlando exhaled in her ear. He wanted her as much as she did and, this time, there was no alcohol numbing his judgement. Her mind screamed with joy and her mouth sought his with a need fed by all the love she had felt for him all those years.

They barely spoke a word; their hands and kisses did most of the talking. Soon, clothes lay on a heap on the floor and their bodies, naked, sought for the closest proximity possible, and when Orlando, with a lingering kiss, moved in an unmistakable way, Zowie's body instinctively prepared to receive him. Her mind, however, screamed at her, demanding attention.

It all happened in a second, in a single flashback that brought Zowie to a state of awareness that couldn't possibly be ignored. She had cleaned herself, yes, but, what about the past? What about the many times she had had unprotected sex with Matt? He had been anything but faithful during their time together, and just like Zowie had come to his life, many other girls had too, and now she regretted her carelessness. She had promised herself she would never hit such low, but she had, and although she didn't want to think about it, as selfish as she had been, she couldn't put Orlando in danger now. She couldn't bring everything to an end either, so she did the one thing that seemed reasonable, and that would guarantee his safety.

“Orlando...” she murmured against his lips. He was ready to join their bodies and desperate, Zowie pushed at his shoulders. “Orlando, please! We need... we need to take precautions!”

Long, torturing seconds passed until Orlando registered her plea and for a moment, Zowie feared it all would have to end if he didn't have protection at home with him, for God knew she didn't carry anything with her. There was a glazed look in his eyes when he looked at her that made her heart stop beating, but when he reached for the bedside table, taking a small, square package from the drawer, her heart sang with relief. Nothing would stop them now... nothing! This night would be nothing like the one in Wellington, and it would have all the magic that first one had lacked. It would make everything right.

No more words were spoken. The dim glow of the moonlight lit the room with a silvery, ethereal glow that touched their bodies as they moved in unison, moans and cries filling the air with electricity and desire. Urgency tinted their movements, as if neither Zowie nor Orlando could simply have enough of each other. Years of hiding their true desires under the pretense of friendship, and the fear, the tension they had just gone through, had left them prisoners of a longing that, now having found an outcome, rapidly carried them away. Zowie clung to Orlando, welcoming him inside her with a joy that only matched the pleasure he brought her, and Orlando wished nothing but to make her as happy as she could ever be. His love would help her heal. That was the last conscious thought to cross his mind before the need for release washed over him powerfully. His love would push all the dark clouds away until the Zowie he knew was inside her resurfaced, free and joyful.

They would never how long passed until Orlando, now laying on his back, pulled Zowie as close to him as it was physically possible, their sweaty bodies barely beginning to cool down. Her long hair was haphazardly thrown over her shoulder and his chest, and his fingers tangled in it as he brought Zowie's lips to his for a slow, intimate kiss. When they parted and her blue eyes looked up at him, glowing with the joy he had been wanting to offer her since they had met again in Los Angeles, Orlando's heart skipped a beat. Words of love almost left his mouth, but Orlando held them back in the last possible instant. There was no hurry, he mused as he kissed her again. They had all the time in the world for that.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38.**

 

Only one thing could have possibly disturbed the most peaceful sleep Orlando had had in a long time, and that was the dull throbbing on his jaw. The skin there pulsed and for a moment, still caught in the web of dreams, his mind wandered aimlessly through foggy memories, the image of a blond man with a sardonic smile taking over his mind.

Suddenly, Orlando's body tensed and he shut his eyes tightly, as if that simple gesture could erase the disturbing images from his memory. No such thing happened, and as if mocking him, even more came; Matt taunting him with revealing sordid stories about Zowie, Orlando's own confusion that now shamed him, and Zowie’s confession about Matt’s failed attempt. They whirled and tangled in his mind, and although they left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth in their wake, they were promptly replaced. These new images were sweeter and far more delectable, and Orlando couldn't help the sleepy smile that spread his lips.

Opening his eyes just barely, he let them wander around his surroundings, slowly getting accustomed to the dark. The slightest sliver of moonlight entered through the window, outlining surfaces and their shadows. One in particular cast a part of him in darkness, and it made Orlando’s smile grow wider.

Not once did she stir. Even though Orlando shifted slightly, Zowie didn't acknowledge it, and her sleep was so deep, all the movement he felt from her was the rise and fall of her chest tightly pressed to his side. They hadn't moved at all during the night, he noticed, and Zowie still lay on her side, her head on his shoulder, his arm thrown possessively around her waist. Although he could barely make out her features in the dim light, he still watched her intently, his eyes taking in the sight that had filled his imagination for so long.

Zowie’s expression was one of absolute peace. Not a single worry seemed to touch her, and for a moment, Orlando fervently hoped so. She had had enough already and she wasn’t the only one to blame, no matter what she told herself. Matt had been Zowie’s choice, yes, but she hadn’t made him the violent man he was; most likely, that darkness had been buried deep inside him, waiting for the next helpless victim to pounce on.

She had made some pretty bad choices, sure, but she was changing. That had to mean something, right? She had cleaned herself in body and mind, enough to refuse the drugs her ex-boyfriend had offered her. Even when the implant would have worked, she had still said no. Zowie was strong, much stronger than she gave herself credit for, and she deserved that peace, one Orlando planned to prolong for a long, long time.

Even though there were no more secrets between them and that the idea of hiding seemed even more unpleasant than before, Orlando could still see the need to protect her from the ugly side of his job. The journalists, the paparazzi, the speculations... he didn’t want to expose a vulnerable Zowie to that. If they had to lie to keep her safe, then they would.

Sighing, Orlando planted a soft kiss on her forehead. The gentle gesture, however, was a painful reminder of the dull ache in his jaw. For a moment, he brought Zowie closer to him, not wanting to leave her side, but when the throbbing didn’t recede, he let out another sigh. Leaving the bed without waking Zowie up wouldn’t be easy, not with the way she had curled herself around him, but Orlando managed, and when he looked down at her still form, he arched an eyebrow in amusement. Zowie might as well have been passed out, for nothing, not even him slipping from being half under her, had altered her sleep.

Shaking his head with a grin, Orlando made a quick affair of getting a painkiller from the bathroom, promptly heading back to the warmth of his bed and of Zowie's sleeping body. Much to his surprise, she had done the unthinkable in his absence: she had turned around and now lay on her stomach, her face to the window, the sliver of moonlight drawing a bright line across her back. Smiling, Orlando slid in beside her, swiftly covering his lower body with the comforter as he rested his weight on his left elbow, his eyes attentively roaming the length of Zowie's body exposed to him.

Not that there was much to begin with, he mused, his fingers tangling in the thick mane of her hair. Zowie had always had long hair, ever since the first time he had met her, and that time in Morocco wasn't an exception. It reached her waist, and now was haphazardly thrown all over her back. Almost black in the dark, the small patch touched by the moonbeam entering through the window acquired a silvery tone that barely hinted its golden hue. It slid between his fingers with a soft whisper and its soft fragrance tickled his nose as Orlando pushed some locks away to place a soft kiss on the back of her neck. He wasn't surprised when Zowie didn't do as much as sigh, and with more of her naked skin now exposed for him to roam, Orlando's lips trailed downwards, loving that silent moment.

Her skin was soft and even, and as his lips traced the gentle line of Zowie's shoulder, the tips of his fingers drew an idle pattern down her back, revelling in the perfection they met. Only a tiny little scar marred such perfection, and feeling it with the tip of his fingers brought a faint smile to Orlando's lips; with the active life Zowie had always led, it was only natural she had one or two war wounds to show off from her previous battles. When that single scar became a second and a third one, however, a light of surprise lit in Orlando's mind.

His lips stilled on the curve of her shoulder, and his fingers, now more attentive and less lingering, took in the skin beneath them, trying to see through them what the darkness concealed. He could imagine one or two scars, especially in someone as active as Zowie, but when his fingers found more of the telling, irregular tissue than he could possibly justify, the surprise he had felt earlier turned into a cold dread.

With his heart thumping in his chest, Orlando lifted his head, his fingers tracing the two marks visible under the silver moon light. Too close together to be caused by any sort of accident, they formed a V of sorts whose sides didn't meet, a side longer, more jagged than the other. As his fingers curiously traced the tender, pale tissue there, a thought struck him like a bolt of lightning, and the dread that had begun to trickle inside him now flowed free.

It took everything within him not to bolt to his feet and turn all lights on to better see what he had discovered. Instead, Orlando slowly reached for the lamp that Zowie had turned off some hours ago, and turning it on, he took it in his trembling hand, praying its cable was long enough to help him solve the riddle that unfolded before his stunned eyes.

It was.

With a shaky hand, Orlando pulled the rest of Zowie's hair aside, and what that gesture unveiled made his throat tighten with agony and fury. There were scars all over Zowie's back. Some were longer and obviously deeper, given the paler tissue they left behind. They didn't have a pattern, and upon closer inspection, Orlando could see the lighter, barely visible hints of older injuries that had been shallow enough not to leave a more distinguishable mark.

Shifting the lamp to his other hand, Orlando slowly uncovered Zowie's lower body. Although not as abundant as in the top part of her body, the back of her thighs and her bum still bore marks, proving the theory that had been haunting him ever since discovering the scars. There was no way Zowie could have possibly caused those on her own. They weren't in places she could reach easily, so the answer that came to his mind was the most logical and infuriating of all. Zowie hadn't caused those injuries herself. Someone else had, and that someone else could only be one person.

Matt.

The fury and pain that rose inside Orlando were so overwhelming, he could barely control the scream of agony that threatened to escape from deep within him. Not happy with beating her up, the bastard had taken great care on marking Zowie forever! The light cast over her skin trembled. No wonder Zowie had never complained about covering as much of herself as she could while in Morocco! Now that he thought back, not even in Spain, where such restrictions didn't exist, had Zowie showed any more skin than her hands and neck.

Orlando closed his eyes as tears suddenly prickled at them. So this was why Zowie always shied away every time his hands tried to sample the skin she wouldn't expose! All that time, she had been trying to hide those scars from him, whether in fear or self-disgust, he didn't know. The moment he realised those marks were the very reason why she had turned that same lamp off hours ago, agony filled him. Even then, when finally letting go of everything, Zowie still had worried about covering the evidences of her tumultuous past life.

The one thing to keep his tears from spilling free was how tightly closed his eyes were. His breath was shallow and rapid, memories and thoughts spinning in his mind at a dizzying speed. Matt wasn't going to get away with it. Even if Zowie begged him not to, Orlando was calling the police in the morning. Matt couldn't be too far away. Most likely, and if he truly felt as almighty as he appeared to, then Orlando wouldn't be surprised he was still in Ouarzazate, looking for the perfect chance to land his next strike.

The string of curses that spewed from Orlando's mouth seemed never-ending, and failed to make him feel at ease. Still, with great care, although with very stiff movements, he set the lamp back on the bedside table, quickly turning it off. With the same air to his actions, Orlando then softly covered Zowie's body before lying down beside her. When he took her in his arms, however, he knew that a long time would pass before he fell asleep again, if he did at all. A lot had happened that night and a lot had been said, but he knew that even more would unfold once the sun rose over that house.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39.**

 

The soft light of the early morning sun was the first thing Zowie noticed upon opening her eyes, and squinting, she had to battle the heavy sleep clinging to her eyelids to throw a quick glance around. Uneasiness blossomed inside her when she failed to recognise her surroundings as the hotel room she had been waking up in since arriving in Morocco, but the wave of warmth that spread through her body soon replaced that odd feeling. Of course this wasn't her room... it was Orlando's!

Realisation dawning on her, Zowie awoke at once, suddenly aware of every scent, every sound, every sensation she could perceive with her body. The pillow smelled unmistakably of Orlando; his very own, personal scent that now emanated from her skin in a way that shook her to the core. His breath tickled her shoulder and Zowie revelled on the feeling of Orlando's body tightly pressed against her, on the sheer intimacy of the moment they shared. A hint of shyness brought a rosy hue to her cheeks when she felt his thighs warming hers, but she scolded herself at the thought. She better get used to it, she mused to herself, because she planned to repeat the experience quite often in the future.

However, as soon as the novelty of waking up in Orlando's arms worn off the slightest, Zowie couldn't help the thoughts that slipped inside her like dark clouds hiding the brightest of suns.

Would he remember it this time? Zowie hated the doubts that spiralled within her, but the dread from that night three years ago still lingered. She had clung to that horrible memory so tightly, her fears had led her down the wrong path every single time. Each time she let them win, Zowie invariably lost, and she couldn't let that happen now. Orlando had been perfectly sober last night. Angry at her at one point, yes, but their lovemaking hadn't been born out of anger or the need to punish one another; Zowie prayed it was born out of the same love she had professed Orlando all that time.

Clinging to her determination with a renewed strength born from the joy she had felt in the night, Zowie let her eyes roam until they fell on the bedside table. There, she noted as her hand lightly caressed the arm Orlando had possessively thrown around her waist, rested a set of mala beads. She had given those to Orlando when, sure that she had lost him forever, their relationship was at its lowest. But they had been a token peace he had understood, and the moment he took her in his arms in the elevator, Zowie had felt everything was right in the world once again.

He had that power over her, she realised; the power to solve every disaster she was in, and that was one of the reasons why she loved him so much. That was why she had given him the mala beads, to offer him the same peace he gave her. Now her present was kept in his bedside table, right next to him and ready when needed, and Zowie grinned sleepily at that.

There was no precisely telling the time solely by the angle of the sun, but Zowie was willing to bet they both needed to be up soon, ready for a long day of work. The thought of leaving that bed a minute sooner than strictly necessary seemed horrible, but the prospect of playing domestic and preparing breakfast for Orlando was tempting enough to have her slipping from his embrace. Once sitting on the edge of the bed, Zowie glanced over her shoulder, and a loving smile stretched her lips at the sight they met.

How had she got so lucky that she finally had him by her side? She had hurt so many people in her life, had made so many wrong decisions that still haunted her, that Zowie had been sure she would be forever punished for that. And still, there he was, peaceful in his sleep after sharing with Zowie the most incredible, unforgettable night of her life. Despite Matt showing up and his trying to ruin everything between them, Orlando was still there. After all that Zowie had admitted, Orlando still wanted her. If that wasn't a sign that what they shared was strong, then Zowie was lost.

Wandering around naked didn't seem like a good option, and while her eyes gave longing glances at Orlando's black shirt lying on a heap on the floor, Zowie didn't want to be a cliché. Yes, a part of her wanted nothing but for Orlando to see her wearing his clothes and think she made the sexiest sight he had ever laid eyes on, but she decided against it in the end, not wanting to push things. So gathering her stray clothes with a blush provoked by the thought of how they had ended up in such a haphazard pattern on the floor, Zowie rushed to the bathroom, taking a shower so quick it must have earned her an entry in the Guiness Book of Records.

The good thing about having a housekeeping service, Orlando had said once, was that the fridge and pantry were always stocked full, and Zowie could see how right he had been. She didn't need to open doors and search around in confusion for she had been in that kitchen many times before, so moving around with determination and familiarity, she gathered cooking utensils and food enough to feed at least four people; she had no idea how Orlando would feel when he woke up, but as far as she was concerned, she was _starving_.

The clock ticked by faster than she would have liked and she had to run against it to get everything done in time, but when she finished stacking up the breakfast she had prepared on a tray, she felt proud. Orlando had to get up in a few minutes, and if she was lucky, Zowie would get the chance to wake him up in a gentler, not to mention much nicer way than his alarm clock would.

When she finally made it to Orlando's room upstairs, she peered inside, the smile that had yet to leave her lips growing wider at the sight of him still in the same position. Filled with love and eager to please him after all the understanding and affection he had showed her the previous night, Zowie tiptoed into the room, posed the tray safely on the other end of the bed and then sat down beside Orlando, her eyes caressing him with admiration.

Looking at him in that instant, and with the feeling of his hands still fresh on her skin, Zowie was instantly transported back to that night in Los Angeles when she had realised he wasn't a young boy anymore. His essence was still there, sure, but this Orlando that now slept peacefully beside her? He would never wake up in the morning wondering what had happened, would never go to her, full of doubts and dreading what might have happened between them. In her heart, Orlando would wake up knowing exactly why she was there, and Zowie couldn’t wait to see if she was right. So turning his alarm off, she let her fingers roam up and down the exposed extension of his back and shoulder before tangling in his brown locks.

“Wake up, Orlando.” She murmured gently in his ear as her lips posed a soft, light kiss on his cheek, his beard tickling her. “Time to get up.”

His lack of response brought a smug, pleased smile to her lips. Repeating her words, Zowie alternated them with soft kisses and caresses until a stirring and a soft sigh touched his body. Looking up, she was then met with a sleepy smile and heavy-lidded eyes that made her weak at the knees. There was no puzzlement there, only recognition and happiness, and her heart soared, glad to leave the dark shadows of the past behind.

“Good morning.” She murmured, leaning in for a soft kiss before adding with a conspiring smile. “You're getting a special treat this morning.”

Even with his features soft with sleep, Orlando managed to raise his eyebrows in a way that made her stomach do a somersault inside her.

“Really?”

A hand moved to her thigh, and his expression took on a suggestive air that made Zowie blush. She gave him an admonishing look, but the smile that played on her lips vanished its effect.

“I meant the extra special breakfast _a la Zowie_. And in bed, nonetheless. It's the breakfast of champions, Orlando.” Zowie stated with a determined expression. “Carried me through many a football match back in the day.”

Following the direction of Zowie’s hand, Orlando realised she wasn’t bluffing. There, piled in a tray that now seemed too small, rested enough food to feed a small army. There was yoghurt, cheese, more toasts that he had ever seen before, jam, fruits and, partially hidden under all the food, two steaming cups.

Taking her hand in his, Orlando brought it to his lips and posed a kiss on her palm, his eyes never leaving hers with what he was sure was a mix of love, longing and determination. It was nearly impossible for him to ignore the images that began to form in the back of his mind, but how could he, when he was still naked in bed and Zowie looked as beautiful as she did? It was solely the thought of how truly special that treatment was what helped Orlando hold such straying thoughts at bay.

He had slept deeper than he had imagined after waking up in the middle of the night; so much, he had never noticed Zowie leaving the bed, taking a shower – he knew that because he could smell the scent of his soap in her skin – and then preparing him breakfast. Still, and regardless of how much he appreciated the effort, he couldn't ignore what he had discovered in the soft moonlight. He didn’t want to bring it up right away and spoil the special moment she had worked so hard for, but whatever the outcome, Orlando was going to get an answer before they left the house.

“Thanks, Zowie.” He murmured. Then, catching her by surprise, Orlando slid a hand behind her neck and pulled her to him to capture her lips in a kiss so long and intense, he hoped she understood not just his love for her, but also that he would never hurt her intentionally.

If Zowie noticed anything odd in his kiss, she didn’t mention it. She did give him a somewhat surprised look, though, but then grinned unabashedly and busied herself feeding him with the breakfast she had prepared. They chatted so easily and Zowie was so relaxed, so obviously happy, that Orlando felt a heavy burden falling upon his heart when he took her hand in his and let his fingers wander in a way that seemed to have no particular direction, but that in reality was slowly, yet determinedly, moving up her wrist. When the tip of his index finger stumbled upon the irregular scar tissue a couple of inches above her wrist, Orlando stopped there. Zowie was so busy talking about the plans Geoff had for one of the big battle scenes of the movie, that she didn't notice that Orlando's face had taken on a more serious expression until he spoke.

“Matt has something to do with this, doesn't he?”

Her surprise was so big, it took Zowie long seconds to understand what was truly going on, and even then, her brain rebelled against the idea. Orlando's face was serious, and his warm, meaningful looks had been replaced by an inquiring and determined glow. The moment Zowie noticed where his hand was and the rubbing motion of his finger over a tender patch of skin just above her wrist, she suddenly felt like a deflated balloon.

The first question to enter her mind was _'how?'_ , but Zowie didn't get to voice it, not when the answer came to her mind almost instantly. She had spent the night with him and not a single piece of clothing had covered her body, concealing it from Orlando's eyes. What else did she expect? Now she was cornered, with no way out but tell the truth.

The previous night, Zowie had seen the importance of being completely honest with him. And she had, to a certain extent. Now that limit was gone, and she realised that, in order to move on to the next phase of her life, she needed to open up and delve deeper, much deeper in fact, than she had the night before. No one said it would be easy and her insecurities rose again, trying to lock her inside a barrier no one could trespass, but Zowie fought against them. She wanted to be happy with Orlando, and in order to achieve that, she had to open up that chest full of secrets she held deep inside and let go.

But no matter how badly Zowie wanted to share that part of her, something inside her refused to draw that lid. Orlando had been understanding so far and would probably be so with what was to come, but it was a survival instinct of her part to try and hold something for herself, as if in doing so she could remain safe in some way. Even if that meant a setback in her life as a whole.

“Why do you want to hear about this, Orlando?” She asked, her blue eyes dark with grief, shame, and that urge to lock everything and everyone out that had worked so well before. Opening that last bit of herself up meant being completely vulnerable, and the last time she had done so, she had fallen in Matt's trap. Orlando was nothing like him, but the pain she had gone through had been a valuable teacher.

“Because I want to help you. You have a habit of dealing with things on your own, Zowie. Not that that’s a bad thing in some cases.” He hurried to add. “But you need to learn that there are others out there who can help you. And I've been trying to do so for a long time.”

“And you have!” Zowie promptly retorted, pleading with her eyes and her voice.

“Then tell me everything, Zowie, because this isn't something you can wave off and hope to distract me from by changing the topic.” Slipping his hand down her wrist, Orlando took her hand in his and asked once again. “Does Matt have something to do with your scars?”

Zowie sighed, feeling desperation and need pulling at her in two very different directions. One begged her to escape that house and pray Orlando miraculously forgot ever mentioning the topic, but the other urged her to share those memories that burdened her so much. She struggled, and finally, with a long, heavy sigh, Zowie spoke the words that sealed her fate.

“Matt has everything to do with this.”

That was it. The door had been opened. Deep inside, Zowie fervently prayed not to end up torn apart and in tears for the rest of her life.

When her eyes moved to the hand posed on her thigh, Orlando knew that, although she had admitted Matt was to blame, telling the rest of the story wouldn't be easy for her. Anger bubbled up inside him, and while he wished he could go back in time and land a few more punches on that guy's face, hopefully until he was turned into the bloody mess he had left Zowie in back in Los Angeles, Orlando had to admit that the true urgency was there, sitting in his bed, avoiding his eyes and looking as vulnerable as never before. He wanted to hug her, take her in his arms and tell her everything would be alright, but he wasn't sure that was what she needed in that moment, so moving the tray to the floor he inched closer to her, his thigh brushing her side through the comforter.

“Did he beat you up?”

Zowie nodded silently.

“Some times. Not in the beginning, though... back then he was a charmer. He only began to show his true self later.”

“So that's how you got those scars I saw on your back last night.” Orlando didn't ask a question. He simply stated a fact, thinking the answer he would get from her would prove him right.

He never imagined how wrong he was.

Zowie looked up at the mention of the scars on her back, but the little shock he saw in her eyes soon faded, turning into a dark shadow he couldn't quite recognise before she answered, her eyes darting away once again.

“Not all of them.”

Orlando frowned, his fingers tightening slightly around hers, confusion running through his veins.

“What do you mean?”

Zowie's eyes slipped closed, the heavy burden that she had been carrying for so long becoming unbearable. She was about to take the first step into the unknown: the unknown of her as a person, and as a part of her relationship with Orlando. Regardless of his best interests, what would he think when he found out how low she had actually stooped?

“Matt... he likes it rough.” She said running a hand through her hair, and the quick, meaningful look she threw in Orlando's direction left no room for mistakes. The widening of his eyes made it almost impossible for her to go on, but taking a deep breath, she forced herself to continue. “Too rough sometimes. That's the only he can, you know… enjoy it. Every now and then I'd discover a new scar I didn’t remember getting, but he always apologised, and I suppose I was just too high to care. I didn’t have much choice, though. With Matt, it was either take it or leave it, and leaving it meant being homeless and drug-less.” She sketched a sad, tortured smile at the thought. “I'm not sure which one bothered me the most at the time.”

There, she had said it. She had told Orlando the biggest secret of her life, the one that humiliated her so much, Zowie had never imagined sharing with anyone. And while some of the burden had lifted from her shoulders, it was still much too light given the weight she had been carrying for so long. And the fear of losing him… it still gripped her heart in a vice grip when she risked a look in his direction.

There was no missing the haunted look in her eyes when he looked up at him and Orlando’s heart, already torn between anger and the most overwhelming sadness he had felt in his life, broke to pieces. Furious with Matt for taking advantage of Zowie when she needed a helping hand, he was also mad at her for accepting it without complaint. But, above all, Orlando was mad at himself for never noticing how truly vulnerable Zowie was, for not noticing how much she needed support and for falling for that mask of self-sufficiency that told him she could handle everything. She couldn't, and it had led her to this. She had to scars to prove it.

“How did it come to this, Zowie?” Orlando finally asked, his face and voice an open plea. “What... why?”

Zowie looked up at him, the heartache she had felt at Orlando not remembering making love to her filling every inch of her being as clear as if it had happened the day before. Did she dare to take that other step? Zowie struggled for a while, but the words finally came out before she could even stop them.

So she told him. She told Orlando everything about that night in Wellington and how she had felt the following Monday when he didn’t remember a thing. How Elijah had prodded her into admitting what was wrong and how he had tried to help, but also that not even all the love and support Lij could show her could ever match what she could receive from Orlando himself. She recounted how Tony had offered her that first pill, and how she had turned to it after her parents’ divorce. Finally, Zowie told him why she had moved to Los Angeles, Matt’s abusive behaviour, and how he had stolen her sword, necklace and earrings after beating her up.

“See this?” She asked, moving her long hair aside and showing her scarred earlobes. “This is all I have left. This, and the paua shell bracelet you gave me when I turned eighteen. Obviously, it wasn’t valuable enough for him.”

Did Zowie feel any relieved after opening up to him? In a way, yes, but at the same time, she felt as vulnerable as never before; a raw, open nerve anything could damage for life. And the man sitting before her, wide-eyed and pale with shock, had always had the power to slash her to pieces. While Matt had been able to hurt her physically, he had never been able to reach her heart the way Orlando had from the very beginning, and now that he had all the knowledge she had always kept from him, what he did with it still remained to be seen.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Orlando registered the intense, unwavering way Zowie stared at him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he also noticed the questions, and the barely concealed desperation glowing in her eyes. But while a tiny, almost imperceptible voice inside him begged him to offer her some sort of reassurance, Orlando couldn't find it in him to do so; that pleading voice had been suddenly drowned by the wild thumping of his heart.

Suddenly, he felt hot, his skin burning as the words hit him like a tidal wave of undeniable truth. Then, just as quickly, Orlando felt cold, colder than he had ever felt before as guilt and shame spread through every cell of his body, leaving him feeling powerless and at loss. His hands shook, and although a part of him perceived how shallow his breath had become, there was nothing he could do about it; his emotions were so tightly wound, they threatened to explode in a blast that Orlando feared would tear everything he knew apart.

And he was right. When his shame and his guilt spiralled together so tightly they robbed him of his breath, he was finally hit by the sheer truth he had always ignored.

There was so much Orlando had never known, so much he thought he was aware of and that had been hidden from him so long! There had even been a tiny, judgemental part of him that had never quite understood Zowie's addiction, a part of him that was now being squashed to death as every word she had spoken entered his brain.

 _He_ had made her start taking drugs. Perhaps he hadn't offered her the first pill, but his actions had led her down that horrible path nonetheless. Orlando had always known Zowie had a soft spot for him, even back in the day, but for her to forgive him for what he had done to her... that was something Orlando couldn't understand. How could Zowie possibly forgive him for taking her first time and not even remember doing it?

All of a sudden, something sprung in his mind, and his heart skipped a beat. Perhaps the memories had always been there, he realised, lurking in the background and just waiting for Orlando to make sense of them. But he, in his stubbornness and denial, had always ignored them. Orlando remembered that morning in Elijah's trailer perfectly well, for the fear of having done something wrong to Zowie had been plaguing him ever since those images of them kissing had first played in his mind. He had a hazy recollection of her reactions though, for once the fears were put to rest, he had selfishly let them go. After all, why would Zowie lie?

But she had. She had let him believe nothing had happened between them even if it had killed her inside. And as images he had always thought a dream forgotten long ago came back to his mind, Orlando finally understood the stupidity and carelessness of his actions. Images he had always thought born of his drunken imagination, of the stupor of his alcohol-ridden sleep weren't such. They weren't figments of his own imagination. They were _memories_ of a moment that had actually happened and that he couldn't, for the life of him, remember, and that pained him above everything else.

Humiliation flooded through him, for once understanding if only the tiniest bit of how Zowie must have felt all that time. Orlando had done the unthinkable, something that he felt he would never forgive himself for and still, Zowie had. Why? The question almost escaped his lips. The answer, however, was as clear and as real as those memories he had always discarded in the past; an answer that had always got the same treatment over the years.

Zowie loved him. Always had. Why else would have she forgiven him robbing her of an experience that should have been nothing but perfect for her, even when the reality broke her heart?

Tears burnt in his eyes when he realised he had been nothing but a self-centred, blind idiot all the time. Just because it had suited him better to ignore Zowie's feelings due to one reason or the other, Orlando had always pushed them to the backseat, his own priorities moving forward every single time. He remembered once thinking what would be of Zowie when he left New Zealand. He now knew he should have paid more attention to her while he was _still_ there, and probably, none of this would have happened. The burden of his actions was heavy on his shoulders, for never before in his life had Orlando felt as unworthy of something as he now felt of Zowie's love.

The pieces began to fall together as her story began to make sense. Elijah... he had always been there. He had had the courage to prod Zowie the way Orlando never had, had stuck with her for as long as he could, had even helped her in Los Angeles. Lij hadn't been able to be there himself, but he had always made sure she was taken care of. Had he always known of her addiction? Orlando doubted he did. Having seen himself how worried Elijah had been when Geoff told them how badly Zowie was doing, Orlando didn't think Elijah would have let her go on like that without informing anyone.

The power of Zowie's revelations kept hitting Orlando as they slowly reached his heart. In spite of all that he had done to her, either by omission or intentionally, Zowie still had followed him to Los Angeles. Hell, she had even sought for him all over the city, even when everyone kept turning her down. He had never known... Orlando had never even imagined she could be in the same city as he and, more importantly, going through the nightmare she had gone through. She had fought her entire family to go after him, only to end up in Matt's clutches, ultimately risking her life. And what for? Just to see Orlando again. The thought of how much power he had unknowingly held over her all that time made him sick to his stomach.

And still, Zowie sat there, in his bed, staring at him with guarded blue eyes.

“I understand this is a lot to... accept.” She said, struggling to find the words. “And I'll understand if you want me to leave. I never wanted to throw all of this on your lap this way, I just-”

Orlando didn't let her finish. Her renunciation and her shame propelled him forward, and soon, his lips fell desperately over hers. Every bit of the love Orlando felt for her showed in that kiss, while every bit of his desperation and his need for forgiveness prompted him to hold her tighter, as if that sole gesture could erase years of neglect and blindness.

Never before had Zowie felt as lost as she did in that instant. In Orlando's arms, with his warm body pressed tightly against hers and his lips holding hers captive in a kiss as intense as no other before, she couldn't possibly make sense of what was going on. What she had just told him... it couldn't be easy to digest. She had never meant to blame him for what had had happened, simply because there no one was to blame. No one had made her take drugs, she had done it all on her own! Even when Tony had offered her that first pill, she could have always flushed it down the toilet, but she had taken it nonetheless. She had even given Orlando the means to leave if her issues were too big for him to deal with, but still she clung to him, hungry for that kiss, almost sure it was some sort of goodbye. That was why feeling Orlando's lips leaving hers felt as if a part of her had been torn from her.

Zowie couldn't finish. Words failed her, and the shrug that followed held a hopeless note that struck a chord in Orlando's heart. It was very selfless of her to offer him a way out, a escape out of all those issues she had shared with him, but her renunciation, the way Zowie's eyes told him of the shame and regret that filled her only served to ignite Orlando with a determination even stronger than before. Zowie shouldn't be offering him an elegant way out... it was Orlando who should be down on his knees, begging her for forgiveness! There were so many things he had overlooked, that he hadn't been aware of, things he could have probably stopped or at the very least prevented hadn't he been so focused on himself… Zowie had been the complete opposite – she had never stopped to consider what was best for her; she had simply thrown herself into what she wanted, and even if that had brought her heartache and pain, she still hadn't been afraid to fight for what she wanted. He had, and the regret that filled him was as strong as Zowie's.

Why didn't Orlando say a thing? Didn't he know that her heart was about to burst, so rapid its thumping was? Zowie had a hard time looking at him in the eye after all that she had told him, afraid for her sanity if what she saw there showed at least a hint of the disgust she imagined he must be feeling in that instant. It had been a gamble to unload all that on him and boy did she feel vulnerable after that, but she could now see that the time for lying or concealing truths was already long gone. She had dreamed of a relationship with Orlando for so long that now that she finally had it, Zowie could see the importance of being honest. It pained her, yes, it tore her apart like nothing ever before, but now the decision was in Orlando's turf. It was his to make. She had opened him a door, all he had to do was step through it and she would understand, even if it killed her. But he still didn't say a thing, and when Zowie risked a quick glance in his direction, the sheer pain she saw burning in them and the agony that tensed every feature of his face made her gasp with surprise, so unexpected that discovery was.

The thought made Zowie feel as lost and confused as never before. Why did Orlando feel pain? Was he trying to find a way to tell her he wanted her out, but couldn't? It couldn't be that hard, Zowie mused, her heart growing heavy despite its wild thumping; all Orlando had to do was say the words and their fate would be sealed. She remembered seeing a similar look on his face when she told him about her parents, but this... it was a thousand times worse. Orlando wasn't immune to other people’s suffering, especially if they were close to him, but it shocked her that, instead of disgust, all she could read in his face was agony. She could understand Orlando being confused, lost, in pain, but not to this extent. That was why she was about to reassure him that none of that was his fault when he finally spoke.

“You should have told me, Zowie. You should have-” His voice caught, thick with emotion. Taking a deep breath, Orlando locked eyes with hers. “Why didn't you do it?”

“Because I didn't want to lose you.”

Her answer was so simple, and yet so meaningful and deep at the same time, that Orlando felt it shaking him to his very core. Zowie hadn't wanted to lose him, had gone to great extents not to, and still he had always found a way to dodge her, either intentionally or not. He should have been shot for that. And still there she was, giving him an insight into her deepest secrets Orlando imagined no one else knew. If that wasn't love, if that didn't speak volumes of her feelings for him, then what was it? And had there ever been someone as unworthy of that devotion as he was in that very minute? Understanding the depth and strength of Zowie's feelings for him made Orlando see, at last, how strong his own feelings were, propelling the words out of his mouth with an utter sincerity.

“I love you, Zowie. All those things Beth said in Spain about me being unable to notice anyone else but you, about me not wanting to lose you... they were true, and she saw them even before I did. Because I'm an idiot, and I've felt this way for you for a long, long time and it's only now that I'm brave enough to face it. And while I'm deeply, truly sorry for all the things I put you through, there's no way I'm leaving this. Because I won't leave you. I _can't_ leave you, no matter what.”

For a brief, fleeting moment, Zowie wasn't sure she had heard right. What if her unconscious mind had made up those words all by itself and, like it happened with dreams, was now giving her what her real life couldn't? Countless _what ifs_ swarmed her mind almost as if Zowie tried to prove herself that she was wrong, that Orlando _hadn't_ spoken those words. That he actually _didn't_ love her and that she was just making it up all on her own, as if looking for a way to preserve her heart and her sanity in case her worst fears were proved right.

But when the words finally sank in and the true power behind them knocked all air out of her lungs, Zowie realised she wasn't fooling herself. Orlando had indeed said those words. He loved her... he loved her! Her brain was working at double speed, frantically trying to come to terms with the immensity of the idea and its consequences when his voice, soft and pleading, touched her ears.

“I love you.”

When Zowie met his eyes, she could barely believe the fear she saw in them. Did he think she would reject him, that she would laugh at his feelings? And what if he was just saying it because he felt guilty? Because he obviously did, he had pretty much said it himself instants ago. _All the things I put you through..._ Zowie wasn't sure whether the idea wanted to make her laugh hysterically or weep with wrecking sobs. If his love was only born from his guilt, then Zowie would much rather go on without it, than suiting herself for a pathetic excuse of what she had waited for so long.

She would never know where she found the courage to speak the next words, but once they formed in her lips, she had to let them out, for she would never content herself with crumbs and a pity party from him, not after all that she had gone through.

“If this is your guilt talking, then I-”

Zowie never got to finish her statement, not with Orlando's lips firmly sealing hers in a kiss so intense, so breathtaking, it reduced her every single thought to dust. There were no more excuses in her mind, no more doubts; Orlando destroyed them all with the love he put into that kiss, with the sheer emotion Zowie could feel tensing every fibre of his body tightly pressed against hers. There was even a hint of anger in it, as if Orlando had been offended by the implications in her words, one that filled her with a joy so strong, she felt she could burst. No, this wasn't pity. This was a love as strong as her very own!

The kiss ended as suddenly as it had begun, and Zowie's eyes only opened when his voice, rough with agitated breath and an emotion that made her shiver from her to toe, murmured in her ear.

“Still think I'm doing all this out of guilt?”

It felt as if the burden she had carried all those years suddenly vanished off of her shoulders. There was no need to keep on coming up with excuses for his words or behaviour to feel safe, and the freedom that idea brought her made Zowie open her eyes and search for Orlando's, which stared at her with a dark fire burning in them.

“God, I've loved you for so long.” She murmured fervently, her eyes boring into his and her hands moulding against the muscles of Orlando's back, holding on tight. “I think I loved you from the moment I saw you in Wellington, when I got so distracted by looking at you that Geoff almost knocked me off with his sword. I... I love you.”

Yes, she was repeating herself. Yes, she sounded like an idiot, but Zowie couldn’t care less. Orlando loved her, he reciprocated her feelings, and such heady thought was enough excuse for her numbed eloquence for the time being.

When he smiled at her, Zowie was sure the gesture that mirrored his in her own face had to be blinding. Yes, she still felt vulnerable. Yes, she still had to come to terms with the idea of Orlando knowing her dark side, but if she had his love, his reassurance that no matter what, he still would be there, then she could handle it. Her smile widened, and without words, she planted a soft kiss on his lips. She had always known Orlando would make everything right, that he would silence the voices that screamed inside her, tearing her to pieces. Why else would she feel such peace now, then?

Orlando noticed that too. Not just the tranquillity that spread through his own body, but also the peace that emanated from Zowie and that he could read in her eyes. It was the kind of peace that he hadn't seen in... years, he now realised. Always masked behind an easiness he could now see had been fake all along, Zowie had fooled everyone. She had made everyone believe she was alright, but how much of that was a cry for help on itself? There had always been something else going on that had made her needs go unnoticed, that had made her addiction grow, and Orlando vowed to himself that it wouldn't happen again. _He_ wouldn't let it happen. This was the moment for Zowie to be free and happy. This was their peace, their heaven, a place where no one could touch them.


	40. Chapter 40

**Chapter 40.**

 

_“Why does it always rain on me?_

_Is it because I lied when I was seventeen?”_

**_Travis – Why Does It Always Rain On Me?_ **

 

That heaven Orlando and Zowie had struggled so hard for, the one he had been dodging for years and that she had cried so many tears for, turned into hell in a matter of minutes. Now, as she sat on the passenger's seat of Geoff's car, a tense silence hanging between them like a wall, she let her eyes roam free over the landscape around her.

Everything had been going so well... so well! There were no more mysteries between her and Orlando. Their love was no longer a secret and for the first time in years, Zowie felt at peace with herself. But it all was to be short-lived. Her past, once again, had surfaced. Only that, this time, its implications were far more complicated than simply upsetting Orlando.

He had only wanted one thing: to call the police and press charges against Matt, both for attacking them the previous night and for all that he had done to Zowie in the past. She hadn't been too keen on the idea, wanting nothing but to get Matt out of their lives for good, but soon she realized that wouldn’t happen unless she took the first step. Orlando could press charges against Matt for the night before, yes, but only Zowie could do it for what had happened in Los Angeles. Eager to let all that go, to finally live as peacefully as she could, Zowie had agreed. Orlando had gone as far as picking up the phone that rested on his bedside table, but he never got to make the call; an incoming one beat him at it.

Zowie would have never imagined that the ring of the phone would mean the end of their paradise, and the beginning of a nightmare they would have to face no matter the cost. Safe in Orlando's arms, she could tell he would rather not pick up the phone that shrilled loudly on his bedside table, but responsibility had got the best of him. And what for? Just to get a bucket of the frigid water dumped on his head.

She hadn't been able to hear, of course, but the look on his face had been enough to know that something was wrong – really wrong. Orlando had paled and his eyes had widened, his whole body growing stiff against hers. A feeling of dread had prickled at her skin, and although she had tried to shrug it off as something related to his job, the seriousness on Orlando's face had told her it went far beyond that. When he risked a quick glance in her direction, she knew that, no matter what was going on, it certainly involved her.

And she had been right. A very upset and concerned Geoff demanded, not only to know whether Zowie had spent the night at Orlando's, but also to warn him – and her by association –, that the news of the fight were all over the Internet. Zowie’s body stiffened with a cold mix of rage, regret and panic as her eyes fell on the printed article Geoff had provided her. Not only had Orlando come across as a violent and irrational man, Zowie herself had been portrayed as little more than a crack head with no issues on cheating on her boyfriend.

It wasn’t true but, who cared? The story there, the one that would attract lots of morbid attention, was that Orlando had, not only stolen someone else's girlfriend, he had also beat that unlucky bastard up when he tried to get her back. The whole picture hit so close to home to what Matt had said the night before, that the answer as to who could have sold the story was crystal clear the moment she read the article. It had been him. Not only had he tried his best to ruin Orlando's reputation, he had also put an entire Hollywood production on the verge of, if not disaster, at least a really big mess.

Not to mention that he had given the journalists on a silver platter what they hadn't been able to find out on their own: that she was an addict.

It didn't matter that she was a _recovering_ addict, or that she was trying her hardest to give up a habit that could have killed her. All that mattered was that Orlando Bloom's girlfriend was a cheating slut with a drug problem and a severe instability, bad enough to be committed to an institution.

But once the rage settled down, regret set in. She _was_ a disaster. She had been right when telling Orlando Matt should have killed her in Los Angeles; that way, she would have spared him such trauma. She didn't deserve him. Yes, she loved him and he loved her back, but what was she doing to him? She had already got him in enough trouble in Spain, and now this? The idea that she shouldn't even be there in the first place fleetingly crossed her mind before Zowie pushed it away. It seemed that she would never be able to live down all the things she had done wrong in the past.

Miles passed by quickly as her regret morphed into panic. What would her family say when the news made it to New Zealand? She would have to warn her mum, but just thinking about it made her sick to the stomach. But even talking to Noemie, admitting all the things she had kept hidden from her, seemed nothing compared to what she would have to face when she and Geoff made it to the studios.

The producers were furious. Zowie knew that for a fact, for not long after Orlando had hung up after Geoff's call, one of the producers had followed, barking into the line that they wanted to see them both right away. Zowie couldn't fool herself. She had been warned before, and so had Orlando. The producers, the director, none of them wanted any more unwanted attention upon the movie and this... A supposed love triangle, a fight and a drug addiction? That was the epitome of unwanted attention in Zowie's books. Dread pooled in her stomach and her chest tightened suddenly. She knew what was to come. She tried to cling to that last thread of hope that remained, but she also prepared herself for the worst. If Orlando's swollen jaw, which had reached new levels during the night, halted or altered the shooting in any way, then Zowie's worse predictions would be right.

However, none of that compared to the wave of shame that hit her when she gave Geoff a sideways, subtle glance.

If there was one guy in the whole world who didn't deserve this, that was Geoff. He had selflessly helped her when no one else would, when Zowie hadn't even had it in her to ask for help. He had been there, had nursed her back to health, had bought her clothes, fed her and even got her a job, but above all, he had worried about her when no one else had. And how did she repay him? By lying to him. Geoff had always been adamant about her spending the night at Orlando's house. Zowie could have argued his reasoning at any time, considering he wasn't her dad, but she respected him so much and had such an appreciation for all that he had done for her, that she had obeyed. Until the night before.

Geoff had found her gone the minute he knocked the door to her room. And not just that, he had also been met by a very angry producer who proceeded to pretty much slam a laptop on his face so he could see what his protégée had been up to, and the kind of trouble she was bringing upon the production. Not a half an hour after warning Orlando about it, Geoff had made it to the actor's front door, honking in a demanding way that left no room for arguing.

Orlando hadn't wanted Zowie to go to the studio that day. He begged, pleaded, even tried to order her to stay at his place, where she would be safe and away from prying eyes, but Zowie had refused. She had a job to do. Whether she still had it by the time she got there, that remained to be seen, but not showing up would only make things worse, and if the paparazzi found out she was staying at Orlando's place, then all hell would break loose. Not too pleased, Orlando had agreed to let her go on her own, reluctantly seeing her point: them showing up together at the studios, where surely the paparazzi that still remained in town were ready to pounce on them? That would be insane.

However, nothing, not even the best of her intentions, had prepared Zowie for what she would face when she met Geoff.

Tension had radiated from him so thick, Zowie could feel it enveloping her and twinning with her own the moment she entered his car. Geoff had greeted her rather stiffly and had been polite yet curt towards Orlando, surely blaming him for all that was going on. The moment the actor was out of sight, however, Zowie had braced herself. And she had been right.

“I helped you, Zowie!” He had exclaimed, his deep voice echoing in the confined recesses of the car, making her wince. “Why couldn't you trust me?”

Geoff wasted no time with useless preliminaries, and Zowie saw no reason in asking pointless questions. Ashamed for not having trusted him like he deserved, Zowie had once again bared her heart and soul. He seemed to understand, but she was sure it would take him much longer than a simple car ride to understand what she had just told him.

What Zowie couldn't know, however, was that while Geoff was indeed angry at her for breaking that unspoken rule of spending the night at Orlando's, what truly bothered him was that he had never been able to see what was truly going on. Not her relationship with Orlando, for Geoff had only needed to put two and two together, but for never being able to read in her behaviour that she was being stalked by her ex-boyfriend and how badly she felt about her past. He had once feared that the one thing Zowie wanted the most – Orlando – would be what tore her apart. He now knew he had been right.

The silence in the car was unbearable, and the tension that had cloaked them both increased when Geoff neared the studio and Zowie saw that the guards posted there hadn't been able to keep the paparazzi away. Her heart thundered in her chest, each beat bringing more and more pain. It was too much... too much! For a moment she wished she could have accepted Orlando's offer, and although she had no intentions of facing the cameras she could see there, Zowie reminded herself that these were the consequences of her actions, and that no matter how painful, they had to be faced. She just didn't know how many more times she would be able to do that in the rest of the day for, as vulnerable as she was, she felt on the edge of breaking down.

~*~

The meeting wasn't going to be long; Zowie knew that without asking. She could feel it in the air, see it in the looks of people's faces as she passed by, and could finally sense it in the tension that thickened the air around them in the chosen room. Even with Orlando holding her hand, even after hearing him promise that nothing would happen, Zowie felt a certainty that filled her with both panic and regret.

Orlando had promised to do anything within his power to keep the producers from remaining true to the word they had given them in Spain, but the catch was there, in that very same sentence even if he didn't notice it. _Anything within my power,_ Orlando had said, but what could he do against his bosses, against these powerful people? Not all the good intentions in the world would save her from the fate Zowie could feel coming at her with the power of a tidal wave. Even if she hadn't done anything, even if she wasn't to blame for anything else but her inefficiency at informing someone of Matt's presence in town, she had unconsciously done the one thing the producers had warned her against: she had brought unwanted media attention upon the movie. And lots at that. They didn't believe in that saying that stated that all publicity was good publicity and sadly, Zowie could understand them, for what was being said about her wasn't exactly good in any way.

“Everything will be alright.” Orlando said softly, as if sensing her uneasiness. “I promise. We'll make it through this just fine.”

God, how Zowie wished she could return his hopeful words with similar ones of her own! But she couldn't. She could only go as far as mustering a weak smile when she looked up at him, and her stomach knotted when, after locking eyes with him, she noticed the same dread she felt inside her darkening Orlando's gaze. He too knew what was going to happen and still tried to make her feel better, and Zowie could have cried. There had never been a time when she had loved Orlando more than she did in that instant, a love so strong that made her see exactly what she was doing to him.

A guilt as powerful as no other ever before overwhelmed Zowie, making her heart break in her chest. Orlando _shouldn't_ be going through something like that! He should be worrying about his job, enjoying it, learning as much as he could in his first time in a starring role, not fretting over all the problems in _her_ life! Zowie loved Orlando, God knew she did, but in that same instant, as he opened the door before them, she couldn't help but wonder what good did it make him to have someone like her by his side. Yes, Orlando was great for her, he brought her peace and the stability she had needed for so long but, did she offer him something similar in return? Or did Zowie only bring Orlando pain?

She was the first to enter the room, and although his hand gave hers a strong, reassuring squeeze that indeed warmed her heart some, it failed to make the uneasiness inside her vanish. Four pair of eyes fixed on them, alternatively going from one to the other before they focused with varying expressions on their joined hands. Even Geoff, who was part of the group, eyed them with an unreadable expression that made Zowie's heart ache. He had left her shortly after getting to the studios to do some further damage control, but the short time they had spent apart had obviously done nothing to help him adjust to the idea of her and Orlando being together. Neither did the other three people in the room, Zowie realised when she noticed the quick looks they exchanged. It was almost as if a silent _'I told you so'_ travelled back and forth between them, making her ask herself whether the secret she and Orlando had thought so safe had actually been such to begin with. The sole thought made her feel even more exposed and vulnerable than she already did.

The moment those four pairs of eyes settled on them, Orlando felt the sudden stiffening in Zowie's body. While he was concerned about the two producers and the movie director standing before him, in that very instant, all Orlando could feel was the disappointment that radiated from Geoff like a thick fog. Not only had they lied to him, Orlando had also done the one thing Geoff had tried to keep Zowie safe from: he had exposed her, putting her in danger. He should have never attacked Matt, he knew that now. Not that it would make any difference, though; what had happened the night before had only sped up a process that had been already in motion for quite some time now. Still, had Orlando's mind not been clouded with rage, he should have been able to think straight and keep her safe. But he had failed, and they would have to face the consequences. If only he alone could, if only he could keep Zowie aside...

“Let's cut to the chase.” Terry, one of the producers, said before Orlando even had the chance to think of anything to say. “This article means more problems that we can _or_ want to handle right now. We are making a movie here, not a damn soap opera with all kinds of drama.”

Teresa, the only woman in the room besides Zowie, crossed her arms over her chest and gave them a dark, ominous frown before turning her complete attention on the younger woman.

“We gave you a chance, Zowie. Geoff here sponsored you saying nothing would go wrong, that we could trust you, that you wouldn't bring any trouble despite your addiction-”

“But I'm clean! I've been clean since before shooting began!” Zowie interrupted with a tone that mixed anger and pleading. Teresa, however, seemed not to have listened to her.

“- which we now know was obviously out of control, enough to have your boyfriend coming over to bring you some more drugs.”

Orlando barely managed to overlook the bitter, sarcastic tone that Teresa had used for the last few words before he spat out.

“ _Ex_ -boyfriend. And he didn't bring her anything... he's been stalking her for weeks and offering her drugs hoping Zowie would relapse and go back to him.”

Teresa arched an eyebrow.

“Does it look like I'm interested?” She asked, her feelings about the matter obvious and clear in her voice and expression. “We’re making a _movie_ here, Orlando! A movie that is now under a serious threat because of her!”

Zowie swallowed hard, the power and the true meaning of the woman's words hitting her like a punch to the stomach. Thinking about it was one thing, but having one of the producers of a major Hollywood production telling her in her face that she had put the entire thing in danger? That was entirely different.

“A… serious threat?” She managed to croak out, her throat dry and her heart hammering against her ribs.

“Yes.” Ridley, the director, answered. His voice sounded calmer than Teresa's, but the look on his face belied it, making Zowie's heart sink. He must have read the question in her eyes, for he went on. “The press is on a frenzy, enough to have a couple of photographers sneaking into the studios despite the security we have all over the place. Do you know what that means?”

Zowie's eyes widened. Given the threats they had got some time ago because of the rather controversial nature of the film, that a few harmless paparazzi sneaked into the studio meant that anyone with darker and more dangerous intentions could too. Her face paled and Ridley nodded.

“But none of that is Zowie's fault!” Orlando hurried to add. “She's been clean for months. She's worked harder than anyone in Geoff's team, and if any of this story has made it to the press is only because _I_ am involved. This is all my fault.”

“Precisely, Orlando.” Terry stated matter-of-factly, stepping closer to him. “You’re involved, yes, but you also happen to be making a movie with us and everything you do, whether here or elsewhere, affects the production by association. We can't let that happen. We can't have people sneaking into the studios to get her picture. We can't risk everything and everyone over a tabloid and, above all, we can't afford waiting until that swelling on your face disappears.”

They were all playing different roles, Orlando realised. Terry and Ridley were serious but, in a way, understanding at the same time. Teresa, on the other hand, was all aggression.

“We're wasting days, Orlando... days! It's going to be hell today and it'll be a miracle if we get anything done. Then, to top it all, you go and show up with a deformed face after a fight in the street with a drug dealer. As if that wasn't enough, we now have to wait until our lead actor looks normal once again and we can't wait. We _can't!_ ”

“I'm not deformed!” Orlando pointed out barely containing his anger. “It's not like half my face was burnt with acid or something. We can still shoot, I'm sure there is a way-”

“There _isn't_ a way, Orlando! Can't you see it? You two,” Teresa spat, her eyes going from Orlando to Zowie with a frigid look, “have single-handedly managed to halt this entire production. I honestly never expected anything from you, Zowie, and I was waiting for something like this to happen, especially since you two got together. Oh yes, we knew about that.”

While Teresa seemed to gloat on her revelation and the shock it brought to Orlando and Zowie, all the latter could do was fix her gaze on Geoff's face, desperately trying to read his reaction. Wide-eyed, Zowie could see how realisation slowly dawned on him and how his face went from shock to disappointment. Whether it was directed at her or at himself for not being able to see what everyone else had, Zowie didn't know, but the effect was the same: she felt even worse than before. She felt truly miserable.

“But from you, Orlando.” Teresa continued, her eyes showing every bit of the anger she felt. “I expected better from you, not for you to start a fight in a place where everyone could see you and be stupid enough to get yourself hurt in the process. We have a schedule here. We can't go around changing everything because you fell for that guy's bait and now half your face is swollen!” Sighing with exasperation, Teresa snapped. “Can you at least understand where I'm going here, Orlando? The kind of trouble _she_ 's brought to this movie?”

If for some reason Orlando couldn't, if he couldn't quite comprehend what Teresa was so clearly and blatantly telling him, Zowie could. And perfectly, painfully well at that.

It was all her fault. Hadn't she been around, then Matt would have never felt the need to fly to Morocco in the first place. Hadn't she been involved, then he would have never sold a sordid story to the press to make Orlando's job a nightmare. And not just that, he had made sure he hurt Orlando in a way that affected his work with the movie even more. The damn bastard had planned it all, Zowie mused, but it was _her_ who had triggered it all. Sick and twisted as Matt was, he was trying to make her see that the he was the only person she could be with, and that he would go to any extent to have her back. She would be damned if she fell for that, but Zowie had to give it to him: Matt had successfully ruined everything for her. Her job, her relationship, her friendship with Geoff... everything. Even Orlando's job and experience.

Orlando, on the other hand, burnt with rage. While he could understand what Teresa meant about the risks and the setbacks, his hatred was instantly and solely directed at her. There were many different ways to put things, to face them with the consequences of their actions, but to be so blatant, so offensive, so... rude about it, that was bad. Teresa blaming Zowie directly for everything, however, that he couldn't stand. He had every intention of lashing out at her, of telling that woman exactly what he thought of her and walk out of that studio _and_ the movie if that was necessary when Ridley beat him at it.

“That is why we can't let this happen again, Orlando.” He said. Then, turning to Zowie, he added. “You're out, Zowie. You're fired. We want you out of the set and hopefully out of the country as soon as possible.”

“ _What?_ ”

“Hell, no!”

Orlando's and Geoff's twin exclamations of rage and disbelief echoed in the room, but while the former couldn't quite comprehend the finality of Ridley's words, almost refused to understand it, the latter didn't have the same problem and counter-attacked with all he had.

“I'm not letting Zowie away from me.” He stated, coming to stand right next to her and sliding a protective arm around her shoulders. “I can understand you wanting her out of the production. You warned her... _them_ enough and they have to be responsible for their actions, but I'm not letting Zowie out of the country on her own, not with that psycho out there still after her.”

Teresa shrugged, absolutely unaffected by Geoff's display.

“If that guy is what worries you so much, then don't. Turns out that him exposing himself like that made arresting him a lot easier. He should be on his way back to the States soon where he'll be questioned about his, well... _business_ relationships.”

Those words, that in any other occasion should have made Zowie feel relieved, failed to have that effect on her. She was overwhelmed by her feelings, and only now did she get the full grasp of what she was doing to those two men she loved so much. Orlando had been given hell for his injury, and was surely going to get lots more until the swelling subsided. He had also stood for her, and Zowie imagined that had done nothing in his favour. And Geoff... Zowie felt a knot in her throat. Geoff was defending her despite everything, always thinking of her safety first even when she had disappointed him in the worse possible way. In that instant, Zowie wished there could be a way she could numb herself, for the pain, the guilt and the shame that washed over her were about to bring her to her knees.

“It doesn't matter.” Geoff carried on. “She needs us to get better. I'll vouch for her. Zowie will leave the production, will even leave the hotel she shares with the rest of us and won't come anywhere near the studios, but she _has_ to remain here in Morocco. I won't let her go alone.”

“You already vouched for her and she ruined it all. What makes you think we'll fall for that again?”

Geoff had no chance to reply to Teresa's acid comment; Orlando beat him at it.

“If she's out, then I'm out too.”

Zowie gasped, her head turning in his direction at a dizzying speed. What on Earth was he doing? Was he insane? Was he truly willing to give it all up just for her? While she should have felt love burning in her heart at his admission, all Zowie felt was panic, one that weighed on her chest like a smothering rock.

“Orlando, no!”

He didn't look at her, but acknowledged her exclamation with a reassuring squeeze of her hand that didn't have its desired effect.

“It's the two of us or nothing.” He said at the producers. “You decide.”

Zowie almost chocked with panic. This couldn't be happening... it couldn't! She parted her lips to promptly argue Orlando's reasoning even if he got mad at her, but Terry spoke first.

“This isn't up to negotiation, Orlando! You have a contract with us that clearly states what you can and can't do, and walking out of the production just like that isn't one of them!” Terry had lost his calmness, but he was still a long way from Teresa's bitter sarcasm. “Almost half the movie is made, you honestly think we're going to let you go so easily? Zowie's gone. You stay, and that's final.”

Zowie furiously blinked the tears away before they could spill down her cheeks. It didn't matter that she had pretty much envisioned this happening from the minute they arrived to the studios; seeing it happening, witnessing it and, above all, being there to see how Orlando put his own job on the line for her was just unbearable. Seeing what she was doing to him, what she was doing to Geoff, felt like a blow to her stomach, like a knife twisting and twisting in her heart in a sadistic way. She was ruining it all for them and she couldn't stand that.

She never imagined she possessed the strength in her to speak the next words, but when they left her lips, she knew she was doing the right thing for the first time in a long time.

“No.” Zowie murmured and all eyes turned to her. Her eyes fixed on Terry, for looking at Orlando or Geoff would push her over the edge. “I'll leave the movie. I do want to stay here in Morocco, though. Even if I have to go to some other city. I think it's best for all of us, the production included.”

Zowie didn't mean to threaten them, and the pleading look she gave Terry was clear: Orlando wasn't going to give up easily. She wanted to be with him but, most importantly, _he_ wanted to be with her, and the only way to keep everyone happy was having Orlando happy.

“Zowie, no!” He exclaimed, both surprise and exasperation in his voice. It was obvious that he didn't understand why she was doing this, and her heart twisted painfully in her chest. She doubted he ever would, but she had to do it nonetheless, for she wasn't going to let him recklessly jeopardise all that he had achieved so far for her own stupid mistakes. “This is _not_ your fault! They can't kick you out just like that, and if I can do anything about it, then I-”

“There is no other way, Orlando.” Zowie pointed out with a calmness that she failed to feel in her heart. It shattered to pieces at the look that took over Orlando's face as realisation dawned on him, but she couldn't cave in now. If she got what she was bargaining for, then yes, she might be out of the movie, but they would at least still be in the same country. She didn't want to lose him and she knew he felt the same way, but at the same time, Zowie could see that, this time, she needed to step aside, if only for a greater good. “I had been warned, and still I brought trouble. I should have spoken sooner, I...” She almost chocked on her words. Yes, she was doing it for a greater good, but she was still Zowie, and admitting she had made a mistake wasn't the easiest thing in the world for her. “Had I told everyone that Matt was here, none of this would have happened. But I didn't, and this is the price I have to pay.” Looking at him straight in the eye, she added. “I'm doing this for you, Orlando. I don't want to be a distraction or a problem to you. This is your big chance, can't you see it? You deserve this!”

Orlando's expression contorted with shock.

“And you honestly think I want any of this without you around?”

At that, Zowie could have cried out her agony. This was precisely the one thing she had wanted to avoid: to have Orlando prioritising her over the movie. How could it all turn out to be so wrong? Still, she tried to reason with him.

“Can't you see it's for the best? I'll still be around, even if I'm not here in the studios!” She was close to losing it when she pleaded. “Nothing will change between us, Orlando. But I would never forgive myself if I put you and your job in even more danger.”

Orlando hissed as he leaned forward, surely hoping not to be heard. A futile attempt, Zowie noticed, given how close the producers were.

“We can win this, Zowie! If I play this right, if I push them far enough then they'll keep you. I-”

“And all you'll get if you keep pushing them is to get me out of the country before you can say another word.” She said, and her heart broke. “I know you're doing this for me... for us, and I appreciate it, but I've made up my mind. I'm out. This is the price I have to pay to learn from my mistakes. Nothing has to change because of this.” She added with pleading eyes. “ _We_ don't have to change.”

Zowie knew that the only way to stop Orlando from doing something radical was simple, yet painful: she had to walk away. She didn't look forward to his reaction or Geoff's, or to facing the horde of paparazzi that waited outside the studios for that matter, but if she wanted to remain around, then she had to bring things to an end. Zowie didn't even stop to think how she would support herself in Morocco or where she would stay – those things would come later. Right now, she had to do something that was already tearing her heart to pieces.

Turning to Terry, Ridley and Teresa, Zowie swallowed the knot that tightened her throat, forcing the words out.

“I understand. I made a mistake and this is the price I have to pay. All I can say in my favour is that I was trying to stop this very thing from happening, but now I can see how wrong I was. I... I wanted to thank you for the chance you all gave me. You have no idea how much it meant to me in that moment of my life, how much it means even now. Thank you.”

Letting go of Orlando's hand was the hardest thing Zowie had ever done, and when a wave of dread took her over, she tried her hardest to stifle it – and failed. She didn't like the feeling of it and had to remind herself that nothing would happen; at least, not worse than what had already taken place. Still, sensing his grip growing tighter, reluctant, knowing Orlando just didn't want to let her go, that he tried until the very last second to keep her there killed something inside Zowie. For a fleeting moment, she wondered whether she was doing the right thing by leaving, by not fighting back harder like Orlando had. The old Zowie would have stood her ground like a wild animal, never backing off no matter what, but this new her was nowhere near as certain as she used to be. Also, she could see where she had taken a wrong turn, the last of many in her recent life, and the first grown up decision in her life was acknowledge it and act accordingly, even if Orlando didn't approve of it. Even if her own heart screamed at her for what she was about to do.

She dared a quick look in his direction, reading the intentions written in his eyes at once.

“I'll see you tonight.” She said, hoping her voice sounded as firm and determined as she expected, something that wasn't easy at all when her soul begged her to hold on to Orlando with all her might.

“One more thing.” Terry asked and Zowie dreaded his next words. “You two shouldn't be seen together at least for some time. Until the air clears some.”

Zowie sought inside her for something else to say, but no words came; at least, not the ones that would help Orlando feel any better. There was such devastation in his eyes, such hopelessness, Zowie felt like the worse person alive for not backing him up. It's not that she didn't want to, but try as she might, she couldn't find it in her to fight back; she only hoped to find a way to stay in Morocco with him. Even if they were in different cities, even if they didn't get to see each other every day as they were used to, Zowie only prayed to be able to remain somewhere near him. Having to leave his side... the sole idea brought a layer of ice to her heart.

Her hand free of Orlando's felt cold, a feeling that expanded all throughout her body, biting at the edges of her soul in a way that felt too familiar. That first step was hard, but the ones that followed proved to be no easier.

“At least let me take you to the hotel.” Orlando pleaded, but Zowie shook her head before looking at him over her shoulder.

“Stay here. I'll be fine.”

Her smile was contrived and before it fell to pieces, Zowie hurried out of the room. She almost expected Orlando to come after her and when she heard steps her heart sank, but much to her relief – or dismay – it was Geoff who had come after her.

“Zowie-”

“I'm sorry.” she said, interrupting him on the verge of tears. “I'm so, so sorry for all that I put you through. You shouldn't have bothered with me, Geoff. I'm... I'm a mess. I ruin everything that I touch!”

If she thought Geoff would leave her alone, then Zowie had been very wrong. He took her by the shoulders and forced her to look up at him.

“You're _not_ a mess, Zowie! What you did in there... it was the bravest thing I've ever seen. You've grown up so much, you don't even realise it. You admitted making a mistake and you accepted it, even if it breaks your heart.” Geoff eyes sought in hers. “I'll try to work something out. I know I was a bastard to you earlier today, but I swear I'll do anything I can do to have you back. I promise. I can go with you if you want me to.”

Geoff's words only managed to make her feel more devastated. Shaking her head, she looked up at him and finally said.

“Just keep an eye on Orlando. Please don't let him do anything stupid. I'll go get my stuff and then I'll change hotels until I figure out what to do next.” She began to turn away, but decided against it in the last possible second and throwing all caution to the wind, for hot tears began to spill from her eyes, she threw her arms around Geoff, holding him tight. “I'm so sorry, Geoff... so, so sorry! I'll never be able to thank you enough for all that you have done for me. I never meant to bring you so much trouble, I just-”

Words got stuck in her throat and before she bawled out like a baby, Zowie turned on her heels and walked away. She had no idea what she would do once she got to her hotel or how to even get there in the first place, but she had to do it. No matter how heavy her heart was or how hard it was for her to take that first step.


	41. Chapter 41

**Chapter 41.**

 

Her new hotel was a beautiful and lovely place, a small establishment with only six rooms and all the Moroccan charm she had grown so used to. Her room overlooked the desert with a breath-taking view, but to Zowie, not even the most luxurious place in the whole world could have made her feel any less torn apart. It didn't matter that this possibility had dangled over her head for a long time, or that she had considered herself more or less ready to face it when it came; the shock, the reality, the _finality_ of it as it unfolded before her eyes was something Zowie could have never anticipated. Not all the preparation in the world could have ever helped her face the true extent of her mistakes.

Sagging in her bed, Zowie's eyes stared unseeingly outside the window. She had arrived at Le Petit Riad about six hours ago, but had yet to leave the safety of that room with walls of a pale, yet vibrant green and large windows. She had spent most of her time there sitting on her bed, a four-poster piece made of iron with a lovely, intricate handiwork that would have caught her eye any other time, but that went absolutely unnoticed in her distress. It was so romantic, with its soft orange comforter, its many pillows and the white, sheer curtains intended to close around the provide privacy during the night, that just paying much attention to it opened a wound in Zowie's heart. Nothing had ended and yet, Zowie felt as if a sentence had fallen upon her and Orlando.

How quickly could things change? Zowie tried to grapple at the concept and failed miserably. She shouldn't be so shocked by the idea, though, she scolded herself half-heartedly; after all, this was nothing but the last and newest example in a series of many other events that had turned her life upside down. First, one night in Wellington years ago that had started off as a dream come true, turned out to be a nightmare. Then, Jared finding a seemingly harmless card in their dad's car had turned out to be the key to a secret so big, it had lasted years and years. How could she be surprised that things hadn't been any different this time? Just hours ago Zowie had woken up in Orlando's arms after an unforgettable night, her whole life making perfect and absolute sense. Now she sat alone in a hotel room, dreading even looking out the window in case a paparazzi spotted her, and thinking over and over how she had ruined the most perfect moment of her life.

This too was the newest mistake in a long list of many, she realised; a list that went as far back as that first pill Tony had given her in Wellington. She had blamed it all on others, on how their actions had affected her, but what about her _own_ actions? Zowie had hidden, told half-truths, lied, deceived... it seemed only natural she had to pay for all that. It just broke her heart that it had to be taken on the one thing that mattered her the most: her relationship with Orlando.

How had his day been? Had it been any different than hers? Zowie hoped so, just as strongly as she hoped he hadn't carried on fighting for her in her absence. A voice inside her told her that Orlando had most likely yet to give up about that, and the thought made her heart feel even heavier than before. If only he truly understood her point, if only he could see that the last thing Zowie wanted was to ruin the movie for him even more so than she already had! Orlando had been so adamant on quitting if the producers kicked her out that she dreaded seeing him later that day. She wanted to have him there, craved to have him by her side, but couldn't stand the idea of him jeopardising his job over her.

They had talked the night before and she had laid everything out in the open for him, telling him that the one reason why she hadn't told him about Matt in the first place, was because she didn't want Orlando to risk himself. Zowie thought he had understood, that his priorities were straight, but that argument, those threats he had shot at the producers... they chilled her inside. A tear rolled down her cheek, a pearl glistening in the afternoon sun that filtered through the window at her right. She had tried to do it all on her own: care for him, for herself, keep his job _and_ his life safe, but had failed miserably. It was a miracle she hadn't been given a plane ticket back to Los Angeles that morning.

How could she make things right? Was there even a way for Zowie to do such thing, or was this her fate? There had to be something she could do, something that would solve the problems she had brought Orlando, and to set her own mess straight at the same time. But how? She wasn't Geoff, and the movie could – and very well would – go on without her. She couldn't even go out to clear her head, for tricking the nosy photographers in town had been hard enough when she had changed hotels earlier. Trapped within those four walls, Zowie felt that all her ways out were closed and that no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't change the mistakes she had made in the past or how they affected her present and, perhaps, even her future.

That afternoon was long, one of the longest in Zowie's life, and the sun was low and bright gold in the sky when the phone on the bedside table rang and a voice told her she had a visitor. The name of Orlando sent her heart flying skywards with joy before it plummeted cruelly to her feet. She wanted to see him, God knew he was the only person in the world capable of silencing the noise inside her, but at the same time, a side of her dreaded having him say that he had quit or done something equally unreasonable.

However, the moment she opened the door and found him standing there, a half, dubitative smile on his lips and an eager expression in his dark eyes, Zowie could do little else but throw her arms around him, tears burning in her eyes. She heard him whispering her name against her hair as his own arms circled her so strong, Zowie had the feeling Orlando wanted her to become a piece of him. She didn't mind one bit, for she had spent years desiring that same thing.

He kissed her cheek, and when Zowie offered him her lips, Orlando accepted them greedily, kissing her intensely and with a devotion that shook her heart. Zowie claimed just as much from him, and it took them a long time until they separated, their breaths ragged with the intensity of their kiss and of their emotions.

“I missed you.” Orlando murmured hoarsely against her lips as his forehead pressed against hers, his arms pulling her even closer. “I missed you so much...”

Zowie sagged against him, all her strength leaving her as new tears prickled her eyes. How would they go through that? The voice inside her was categorical. They had to. There was no other way.

Gathering forces from the joy she felt by simply having him by her side, Zowie sketched a small smile and inched herself apart just barely, enough for him to look at her clearly.

“Come on in.”

Orlando let go of her, and although a cold spread within her at his absence, it was soon vanished as Orlando slid his arms around her waist from behind, his chin on her shoulder.

“It's a pretty place.” He said, surveying the room with attentive eyes.

“Yes.” Zowie conceded.

He was right, but although was certainly prettier than her old hotel, she would have given everything to never see this place from the inside. But now Orlando was there, and Zowie didn't want to dwell on such thoughts; he was by her side, and she wanted to enjoy that moment for as long as she could.

Posing her hands on his, she led him to the bed, where they sat down side by side before Orlando laid down, taking her along with him.

“How are you?”

Zowie sighed. Could she answer truthfully to that without setting Orlando against the producers all over again?

“Coping.” She said, snuggling closer to him. Orlando was now lying on his back and Zowie pressed herself against his side, her head on her shoulder in a way that reminded her almost painfully of that perfect moment the night before. Posing a soft kiss through his t-shirt, she added. “I missed you. It's been a long day here on my own.”

At that, Orlando frowned. Things weren't supposed to be that way! Zowie's place was in the studios, right next to Geoff doing what she did best! And right next to Orlando himself as a matter of fact, not here, locked up in a hotel room all alone! Anger bubbled up inside him at the thought. Was this how she was supposed to spend the rest of her time in Morocco? It seemed inhuman to him, and although somewhere deep inside him he wished the producers would have her back once the press hype died down, he had admit that the possibilities were very slim. If there were any at all to begin with.

Suddenly, the thought of Zowie sitting in that room all alone seemed unbearable to Orlando, the mental picture making his heart clench with both pain and anger. She didn't deserve any of this! It didn't matter that she had made a mistake when hiding what was going on from everyone else. Hadn't the producers made a mistake in their lives? Had they never loved someone? All Zowie had done was care for him and, secondarily, for the entire production, and they still punished her for that. Matt was out for good. Sure, there was damage control to be done, but they were powerful people. They could handle it!

“Let's go to my place.” Orlando blurted out, the idea having just hit him. “We can have dinner together and you can stay over.”

Zowie propped herself up in one elbow and stared down at him, a lost expression painted on her features. Shifting around a little, she said.

“Your place? I'd love to go there, but we can't. You know what Terry said.”

“Yes, that we can't be seen together.” Frustrated, Orlando let out a loud sigh before insisting. “If we’re careful, no one will see us.”

Zowie's eyes roamed his hopeful expression, a feeling of uneasiness trickling down her spine. Didn't he understand? Terry had been clear. Non-threatening, but clear nonetheless. They weren't to be seen together until the dust settled down and the paparazzi finally – and hopefully – left Morocco for good. In Zowie's book, not be seen together included her not spending the night at his house no matter how badly she wanted to be alone with him. Did Orlando honestly think they could beat the paparazzi? They made a living out of catching people like him in what were supposed to be secret or intimate situations, for God’s sake!

She still tried to reason with him.

“Orlando, I'd love to go there with you, but you know what will happen. We'll be followed and we'll be on the front page again tomorrow morning and honestly, I don't want to piss those people off even more than I already have. Only God knows what they'll do if that happens again.”

A pleading rose in Orlando's features.

“We _can_ do it, Zow! We can drive out of here unseen and tomorrow I'll leave for the studios and hopefully drag all those damn paparazzi away with me. You can leave much later if you want to, or stay there for as long as you please. You know I don't mind. In fact.” He said, pulling her close with a small smile. “I love to have you there.”

Zowie accepted his kiss willingly and although she delighted on the contact of his soft lips against hers, something inside her didn't feel quite right.

“Come with me.” Orlando pleaded as soon as the kiss ended. “Please?”

Zowie sighed, depression taking over her.

“I can't, Orlando. We can probably make it work the way you said, but honestly, I don't know what to expect anymore. I don't want any more trouble. I'd love to, but I can't.”

“Are you really going to follow Terry's orders?” Orlando asked, frustration raising his voice if only a notch. “He can't dictate our lives, Zowie!”

“But he can and he _has_.” Zowie pointed out with regret shining in her eyes. “Why else do you think I'm here?”

“We're here because you didn't let me fight back, that's why.”

Zowie felt as if a wave of the coldest, most frigid water had just washed over her. Had she heard right? Had Orlando just _blamed_ her for what had happened? His face had darkened with a frown and he was looking away, as if he couldn't stand looking at her. Dread pooled in her stomach, but still she tried her best to make Orlando see things her way.

“Because I could see there was no use. Because you were ready to quit your job for me, and although I love you and I appreciate what you've done with all my heart, I still can't let you do such thing. Don't you understand that a single picture of us together, or even one of me leaving your place tomorrow morning will be enough to drive Terry and Teresa wild one more time? I don't want them to make me leave the country, Orlando. Being here in this hotel is bad enough already as it is.”

“You're way too afraid of the paparazzi.” Orlando said rather stiffly. “And put way too little faith on us.”

At that, Zowie sat up, her eyes fixed on Orlando, wide with disbelief. Her heart thundered in her chest and her stomach churned, not liking where this was heading the tiniest bit.

“I do have faith in us.” She responded. “I've had such faith in us I've waited four years for this, and that's the exact reason why I don't want to ruin it!” Zowie could feel her voice rising and she stopped herself, taking a deep breath. With a hand pointing towards her window, she continued. “You think they're not out there? They are, Orlando. Some even followed me to my old hotel from the studios.”

When Orlando looked at her, Zowie could see he wasn't pleased with her argument, but could also see him struggling to understand her point. That relieved her some, but his next words shattered that illusion to pieces.

“Settled, then.” He stated. “I'm staying here.”

The words felt like a punch to the stomach, leaving Zowie breathless. Had he not heard a single thing she had just said?

“It's the exact same thing, Orlando! You think you weren't followed here, that they're not waiting out there to see what happens? If you stay here for the night, they'll have a field day with it tomorrow.”

At that, Orlando sat up, looking at Zowie straight in the eye. He had tried to see things her way earlier, yes, but it was obvious that, in his determination to make things a certain way, his understanding could only go so far.

“Why don't you want me here, Zowie? Are you mad at me for what happened today?” He asked bluntly and Zowie gasped, his words a knife twisting in her heart.

“I'm not mad at you, I'm trying to protect you! To protect us both!” She cried. “Why can't you understand?”

“Because I don't see why we shouldn't be together tonight just because of what people will say! That's why!”

At that, a flare of anger rose amongst the pain and frustration Zowie felt.

“Because they can do whatever they please with us, Orlando, and they have! The producers won't let you leave, but they've already kicked me out and it might not seem that way given my past record, but I _do_ have a dignity, I _do_ have pride, and I won't let them force me to leave the country over a stolen night when we can be patient, play it right, and have as many nights together as we want in the near future.”

Orlando felt her words hitting him when she hinted that her past mistakes might make people thing she would grovel and beg for forgiveness and acceptance, but he was too angry to act accordingly.

“But I want tonight.” He said. “I _need_ tonight. We can show them that what we have is strong and that they won't be able to play us any further.”

Those words filled Zowie’s eyes with hot, burning tears. Why couldn't Orlando listen, why couldn't he understand what she needed, what she wanted? She asked for one small favour, but he stubbornly stood his ground, and irrationally so, by the way. And she knew irrational, for it had tinted her behaviour ever since he had come to her life.

This time, however, Zowie felt she was being the most level-headed of both when she asked with a weak voice.

“Perhaps you should leave. We can talk later or in the morning, but right now, I don't want to bring you any more trouble.”

Orlando's features were stern when he nodded curtly. A part of Zowie hoped he would understand, that he would see things her way and that this wouldn't ruin what they had so recently discovered, but when he stood up and murmured a half-hearted _“I'll call you later”_ , she knew that wasn't the case.

It tore at her heart to have him leaving that way, but deep inside she knew she had done the right thing. She was doing this for him, for _them_ , even if he couldn't see it now. She still hoped, however, that some time alone would help Orlando understand everything, but when the door closed behind him and not a single other word was spoken, her shoulders sagged. In times like these, the memory of how easily she used to numb herself to emotions such as this crept back to her mind, teasing her, taunting her, and Zowie clung to that pride and dignity she had claimed to have earlier. Those were mistakes she couldn't afford to make again, just like the one she had prevented herself from making by not giving in to Orlando's wishes. If only he could understand how much keeping him safe and happy meant to her...


	42. Chapter 42

**Chapter 42.**

 

_“And maybe someday_

_We’ll figure all this out.”_

**_Rob Thomas - Someday_ **

 

It was already dark when someone knocked at Zowie's door. Not the least bit inclined to abandon the bed she had been lying in since Orlando left so bitterly, she closed her eyes, a silent plea forming in her mind.

A second knock. _'Go away... go away!'_. Zowie was about to scream those words out loud when a voice accompanied the third unanswered call.

“Zowie? It's me, Geoff... open up!”

Her face contorted with something akin to agony, torn apart by his presence. Should she open the door as he begged, or should she pretend she wasn't there, or that she was deeply asleep? Zowie weighed her options. On one hand, Geoff talking about what had happened earlier seemed hellish. But on the other, a side of her begged Zowie to let him in, if anything, given how much she owed him.

The loyalty and guilt she felt won in the end.

“In a minute!”

Her voice sounded raspy, and Zowie wondered whether it was because of the silence she had been in for so long, or due to the tears she had refused to shed and that had knotted at her throat ever since Orlando had closed the door behind him. Standing up in a hurry, she took great care on tidying up the bed; she had no interest whatsoever on showing Geoff she had spent the day there, captive to thoughts so depressing, they had annihilated what little joy still remained from the day before. Taking a quick look in the mirror that hung on the wall, Zowie ran a hand through her long hair and then smoothed them down her clothes, grimacing at the telling wrinkles.

Posing a hand on the doorknob, Zowie took a deep breath. She had a lot to talk about with Geoff, and she prayed to God he gave her enough strength to do so without breaking down.

Putting on a smile that didn't quite reach her heart, Zowie finally opened the door.

“Hi there, Geoff.”

He smiled back, and if he noticed anything odd about her lack of cheerfulness, he refrained from commenting.

“Hi, Zow! Can I come in?”

Zowie stepped aside in a welcoming gesture, and her eyes, never leaving him, noticed at once the quick yet thorough look Geoff threw around the room. He seemed, if not pleased, at least relieved with what he saw there, another sign of how strongly he had devoted himself to taking care of her. At that, Zowie felt shame bubbling inside her. That man had done so much for her, and what had she done in return?

Trying to keep her sombre feelings from showing on her face, Zowie turned to Geoff. Perhaps she wouldn't succeed entirely, but no one could blame her for looking depressed after all that had happened, right?

“How are you doing, Zow?” He asked, genuine interest glowing in his features. Zowie shrugged, not quite sure how to respond to that.

“Honestly? I don't know.” She answered as she closed the door, and for once, she was being completely true. She regretted having that argument with Orlando, but at the same time, a side of her was pleased that she had stood her ground, for she believed she was doing the right thing. “I hate what happened.” She said, walking towards Geoff. “I hate what Terry and Teresa made me do, but at the same time I knew what was coming. I tried to stop it, I mean... that's why I kept all this hidden in the first place, but I had been warned. I...” Her voice trailed off. Although she was telling the truth, putting it in words wasn't any easier.

Taking her hand, Geoff led her to the bed.

“I know. This can't be easy for you.” He said as they both sat down. “Still, I think this is a very healthy thing you're doing, Zowie. Very adult.”

She blinked in confusion.

“Adult?”

Geoff smiled at her obvious puzzlement.

“What you're doing, Zowie... how you're dealing with it. What would have happened had Peter fired you from _Rings_ all those years ago?”

Her answer held no hesitation.

“I would have never accepted it.”

“Exactly. Knowing you, you would have kicked and screamed your way back in. You wouldn't have been stopped, no matter what.” Geoff said with a smile and an amused rise of his eyebrow. “But now you've accepted it, no matter how much it hurts you. You've grown up, Zowie. Perhaps it was done the hard way, but you've come a long way from that girl in New Zealand, and what you did today proves it.”

Zowie stared at him, awed at his statement. All she had known when walking into that room that morning was that she had made a mistake. The rules had been clearly set some time ago and she had broken them, so she had to pay. As simple as that. Not once had she related the acceptance of her mistake to any sort of maturity.

But then, one by one, almost as if Geoff had unlocked some chest Zowie had kept hidden in a dark corner of her mind for years, all the mistakes she had made in the past tumbled out. One by one, and with painful clarity, they showed Zowie where she had been wrong, a merciless movie she couldn’t escape of as it played before her eyes. She had hurt so many people… had done so many wrong things… and this man before her had been the target to a fair share of them. Once again, shame washed over her. Would she ever stop feeling that way?

“I made so many mistakes, Geoff... but lying to you so shamelessly, keeping things from you… that’s what troubles me the most.”

Geoff shifted on the bed.

“I can see why you did it, though. You wanted to protect Orlando and-”

“I was being a complete idiot.” She interrupted him, fighting the tears that suddenly prickled at her eyes. “I thought I could handle it all and that no one would ever know that Matt was here, but I couldn't. And then I hid being with Orlando from you and that... that was the worst thing I could do.” She said with a shaky breath. “You helped me when no one else would. You saved my life and I repaid you in the worse possible way. I'm not an adult, Geoff... I'm a complete mess.”

Taking her by the shoulders, he forced her to look at him when she lowered her head in shame.

“We all make mistakes, Zowie! And you don't owe me anything.” He stated with a firm voice. “I only helped you because I _knew_ that you could do better, that the true Zowie wasn't completely lost. I could have never left you in the situation you were in, even if I hadn't known you and your family for so long. Ask Orlando if you don't believe me. When I saw him and Elijah at the premier of _“The Return of the King”_ in Los Angeles, I asked them for help. I had no idea what was truly going on with you or Matt, but I could see you were in danger. They said yes from the very first minute.”

At that, Zowie's face changed radically, going from self-pity to disbelief.

“Orlando... and Elijah?”

Geoff nodded.

“I figured out that if you couldn't trust me because of how close I was to your dad, then you would trust them. You and Elijah were always good friends, and as for Orlando, well...” A tiny smile touched his lips, even in the graveness of the moment. “I had a pretty good idea of how you used to feel for him in New Zealand, and I thought he could help as well.”

“You knew?” Disbelief touched her every feature and Geoff couldn't help but smile widely.

“We all did, Zowie.” His face fell a little, though. “I'm not ashamed I used him that way, though. Your state called for extreme measures and I wasn't afraid to use them.” A deep frown suddenly darkened his features when he locked his eyes with hers. “I'm sorry about how I reacted this morning. It's your life and now I can see he cares deeply for you, but I was so shocked, so... angry!” Geoff exclaimed. “I thought he was to blame for everything. I thought he should have taken better care of you and not exposed you like that, but when I saw him fighting for you this morning, it earned him a whole new respect. I still think he should have been more careful, that _I_ should have been more attentive and notice what was truly going on and perhaps none of this would have happened, but there's no use on weeping over spilled milk. What's important now is what you plan to do from now on.” He said, and Zowie stared at him with a lost expression on her face.

“I have no idea.” She answered truthfully. “I don't want to go out in case someone sees me and invents some story that ends up on the front page of a tabloid, but I don't want to leave Ouarzazate either. You're here, Orlando's here and...” She shrugged once again as a way to get away with not finishing her answer. She wasn't sure she wouldn't cry if she did.

“I know it's hard.” He said. “But you have me and Orlando for support and-” Something in her expression must have given her away, for Geoff interrupted himself and leaned in closer, inspecting her face. “What's wrong, Zowie?”

“Nothing.” She rushed to say, but her answer obviously didn't satisfy him.

“Is something wrong with Orlando?”

“No, no!” She added quickly. “He was here a while ago. We talked, but he left soon. I didn't want anyone to see him and cause any more trouble.” Which was the truth, to a certain extent.

“Zowie.” Geoff said, taking her hands in his and giving her a look so understanding and supportive, she instantly felt unworthy of it. Here she was, a complete mess, and this man she had lied to for so long was still willing to help her, no questions asked. “I know you care about me and Orlando and that you don't want to cause any more trouble, but right now, the best thing you can do is care about yourself. Think about what you feel, what you really want to do, and act accordingly. I'll support you no matter what and I'm sure Orlando will too.” Zowie barely managed to stop the frown that crept up her face. Would he? “Just be yourself, Zow. That is the only way you'll be happy. The only way we can _all_ be happy.”

Geoff's words stirred something to life inside Zowie; an idea, a concept, that sent a wave of realisation crashing over her and that made her heart skip a beat. All of a sudden, everything was clear, almost painfully so, and the path she had to follow was clearly laid out before her like never before in her entire life.

“I will, Geoff.” She said, a tiny smile on her face. “I promise.”

He nodded, seemingly very pleased with her admission.

“There's no need to hurry. I know it's hard for you now with all the attention on you and Orlando and well... _Matt._ ” He said with a scornful tone. “But take all the time you need, okay?”

Zowie nodded with a smile, and although the rest of the long conversation they shared was perfectly clear in her mind when Geoff left almost an hour later, there were other thoughts simmering in the background, taking shape even as she discussed her current state with Geoff. Thoughts that took a pivotal spot inside her the moment she closed the door behind him and she was once again left alone with her reality.

Geoff's words had tickled something in her mind, something Zowie hadn't stopped to consider in that dark day and that now couldn't possibly be ignored. Suddenly, the concept of an epiphany was more than clear to her.

In order to do what she believed was a greater good, Zowie had done nothing but ruin everything. She had tried so hard to keep everyone around her safe, to keep them all away from the troubles that had inhabited her life for so long, that she had only succeeded on unleashing them upon those she loved the most. Instead of being a solution, she had become a part of the problem – _the_ problem, Zowie realised – and that was a bitter pill to swallow. She didn't want to be one, but no matter how hard she tried to avoid it, that was all she managed to do, and she had the feeling she would carry on being nothing but a problem if things remained as they were. Zowie had tried to do everything on her own, whether to prove herself or someone else that she could, she didn't know, but had failed so utterly in the process, that everything had shattered to pieces around her.

She was hurting everyone! But this hadn’t started with Matt showing up in Morocco as it seemed; it started off in New Zealand, when she decided to leave the country as a punishment for her father's sins, as she could now see. And for one reason or the other, she had not only hurt William, but her entire family in the process. What had she brought to her loved ones other than pain and problems? Her emotional roller-coaster had taken its toll on everyone, not just her. All that pain she had gone through, it had been self-inflicted. Yes, others had caused her pain, but _she_ had chosen to wallow in self-pity. Now she understood why Orlando had once told her she liked being miserable. He had been right all along! Perhaps, if she was miserable and someone else noticed it, they would solve her problems and save her from doing it herself.

But no more, Zowie realised. Her face was no longer a picture of pain and regret as it had been; instead, it glowed with determination. Perhaps she was more adult than she had ever given herself credit for, or perhaps she was being just as careless and thoughtless as she had always been, but Zowie now realised of something.

 

_There was someone here inside_   
_Someone I thought had died_   
_So long ago_

 

Everything she had done before in her life had been for others. Either to reward them for acting the way she expected them to or to punish them for not doing what she wanted, Zowie had always acted according to that credo, regardless of what it did to others. But now she had one chance, one chance to make it right, and awareness filled her. Just like Geoff had said, this time wasn't about him or about Orlando, although his well-being was certainly what Zowie thought the most of as she made up her mind. This time it was all about her, to learn to deal with things on her own. To be independent. To be herself. To stop hurting those she loved.

To be whole again.

 

_I followed the voice you gave to me  
But now I've gotta find my own_

What Zowie was about to do was the first selfless act she had made in her entire life; the one that would spare Orlando of all the problems that followed her, and while pain tugged at her heart, she knew it had to be done. Years ago she had made the decision of numbing herself to everything, but when she decided to get clean, Zowie never imagined it would come to this, or to the decision she had just made. A decision that, although painful, made more sense than anything else ever before.

Orlando had once told her that she had to be strong; not for him or Geoff, but for _herself_. And being strong meant accepting she had failed, no matter how much that scared her. She had always pushed herself too hard, demanded too much from herself to admit failure so easily. Zowie had tried to make everything perfect for her and Orlando, but it had never been within her reach, not until she cleared all the dark clouds that covered the blue sky she knew she could reach. No one said the way there would be painless, but it had to be done.

The suitcase with what little belongings Zowie had still sat next to the bed, right where she had left it earlier. With a determination that almost seemed alien to her after years of hiding behind drugs and lies, Zowie knelt down and unzipped it, the object she was looking for resting on top of the clothes she had carelessly thrown in in her hurry. With it in her hand, Zowie sat on her bed. She had shied away from offers of help for a long time, but not anymore. The enormity of what she was about to do hit her like a blow to her stomach, but still she didn't coward, and with a deep breath, she picked up the phone.

 

Lyrics: **Beyoncé** , _“Listen”_


	43. Chapter 43

**Chapter 43.**

 

The day on set was long. It wasn't very different from the one before or the one he was sure would come the following day, but in that particular moment, Orlando didn't feel like dealing with it. The endless hours of shooting, the constants stops to change camera angles, the wind that blew sand on his face... any other day, Orlando could have easily dealt with it; in fact, he might have even welcomed it. But not that day.

He was angry, frustrated and sad, an explosive combination he felt would lead him nowhere, but still one he couldn't escape from. In a hopeless attempt to keep his bubbling emotions from being noticed, Orlando locked himself up in his trailer between takes, although the silence that welcomed him there was anything but comforting. Zowie used to be there and her voice, her laughter, her sole presence were enough to lighten up the place. But he was alone now, and Orlando hated his circumstances with a vengeance.

He should have fought back. _Zowie_ should have let him fight back instead of passively accepting the dictations of the producers, leaving before he could even unleash his counter-attack fully. She had given in, and that was something Orlando couldn't comprehend. It was Zowie, for God's sake! This was the girl who had left her country, her family and everything she knew behind just to follow her dream and to, ultimately, find him in the way. She had never been deterred by anything, why did that have to change now, then? Now, when they needed to fight with every bit of their strength?

She didn't have anything to do with what Matt had done other than being the person he had been after so, why had she given in so easily? Orlando had even been willing to understand, to try and see things her way somehow, but when Zowie refused spending the night with him or having him over, it was the last straw. Why did she give the paparazzi and the producers so much importance? The way Orlando saw it, the more they were seen together, the better; if the producers understood how serious they were and how stupid it was of them to try to separate them, then they would give up and have her back. But how could they do that if Zowie refused to?

Still, a voice inside Orlando begged him to call her, to talk and at least see how she was doing and then try to work things out. He even went as far as reaching out for the cell phone he kept in the pocket of his jeans, the ones that now rested on the couch, but then thought better about it. He wanted to see Zowie, spend time with her, even at her hotel if she didn't want to go out because of the paparazzi, but he didn't want to argue again, not with half a day of work ahead of him.

Orlando hated feeling this way, hated having had an argument with Zowie. It had never happened before and, in their current situation, he had no idea how to deal with it. He wanted Zowie's support but, above all, he wanted her to be happy. The way he had seen her the day before, all alone, locked up in a room, afraid, defeated... that wasn't the Zowie he knew. There was spirit inside her, but it had been carelessly stepped on by the producers. A sigh escaped Orlando's lips. He would go to her hotel that night and try to work things out. He would try to see things her way, no matter how hard it was, but now he would concentrate on the hours that were left of that work day. Things had been tense since Zowie's departure and he wanted everything to run smoothly, so he left his trailer, hoping things between him and Zowie got solved quickly. He loved her, and God knew that hurting her in any way was like hurting himself.

~*~

By the time Orlando finally got back to his trailer, the sun had long since disappeared from the sky, and he was desperate to get rid of the heavy chain-mail he was wearing. He appreciated the help of the wardrobe assistant, he really did, but deep inside Orlando wished the woman could move just a little quicker so he could get out of the studios as soon as humanly possible. He hoped Zowie didn't mind if he took a shower at her place, because he was _not_ going to waste what little time he had on going over to his place and then back to the city just for a shower.

Once out of his work clothes, Orlando raked a hand through his hair as the other slipped into his back pocket to grab the cell phone he had left there earlier that day. His fingers were poised and ready to speed dial Zowie's number, but a message blinking on the screen caught his attention instead. Her name flashed there, and Orlando felt a spark of hope igniting in his heart. Things couldn't be that bad if Zowie called him, right? He meant to call her right away, but then figured it would be a lot better if he actually listened to her message; after all, there _had_ to be a reason why she had left it there, right? With a tiny, hopeful smile, Orlando accessed the message in his phone and prepared himself to hear it.

There was a rustle in the background, the sound of voices coming and going that made Orlando frown in that brief second before Zowie finally began to talk. When she did, there was a certain trembling in her voice that didn't go missing as a frown began to darken his features.

“Orlando, this... this isn't easy for me, but I owe you as much. I'm leaving. I appreciate all that you've done for me with all my heart, but I _have_ to leave. This is your big chance and I'm a distraction you don't need right now. Just... don't look for me. It's better if you don't. I need to do this on my own, for myself, otherwise I'll never be whole again. But you deserved to know. I love you. Bye.”

Orlando couldn't move. Not even if a serious threat to his life came his way in that instant, could have he moved an inch. He was frozen, both inside and out, and his stomach clenched at the fear and the dread that pooled there. His heart, on the other hand, had must surely stopped beating, for his breath was stuck in his throat.

The ice spread slowly inside him, but with a certainty that allowed it to reach every inch, every corner, every single part of him that was capable of feeling something. And that something he felt was fear; a total, complete and utter terror at the message he had just heard. Zowie had left? The idea made no sense to him, but when the ice took over his heart, his breath came out in short, terrified gasps that almost doubled him over.

Zowie had left!

His mind simply couldn't grasp the enormity of what he had just heard. Why would Zowie leave? They were together and she loved Morocco, why would she want to do such thing? Desperate, Orlando replayed the message, sure that he had misheard every single word and that Zowie had meant something entirely different, not what _he_ thought he had heard.

But he hadn’t. Orlando hadn't been wrong. Each and every single word that had resounded in his ear before was repeated with a painful intensity this time around as well, leaving no mistake as to what the meaning behind the message was. Zowie truly meant to leave and the idea lashed his heart, opening a wound there that the terror and tension he felt didn't allow to bleed. His fingers suddenly punched the phone hard, a light of hope blaring in his mind. If she hadn't left the message long ago, then he could still catch her and erase that nonsensical idea from her mind. What on Earth was she thinking, anyway? Orlando hated every second that it took for him to find out at what time Zowie had made that call, and when the female, over-polite voice told him exactly when the voice mail had been recorded, Orlando felt that knowledge hitting him square in his stomach.

He barely noticed there was a bed behind him; a part of him simply thanked it was there when his knees gave in from under him. Zowie had left him that message around lunch time, not long before his break that day that had seen him in his trailer musing over what had happened between them the night before, a thought that pierced Orlando's heart like the sharpest dagger.

Was this his fault? Orlando's eyes burnt with unshed tears as he stared off unseeingly, and a low, strangled cry of pain escaped his lips when he realised what the answer to that question was. Of course it was his fault! A part of him still refused to accept that the argument they had had the night before could have anything to do with this idea, this sudden departure, but the evidence was clear.

In the past, Zowie had always been the irrational one, the impulsive one. This time, however, it had been him, and he had ruined it all. _He_ had tried to get something from her that Zowie was obviously not ready to give. _He_ was the one to storm out of her room the one time she had stood her ground to him. Orlando hid his face in his hands, grief and guilt spiralling inside him. How much more of an insensitive bastard could he be? Now he could understand everything that he had missed the night before, everything that he had been too self-centred to notice.

None of what Zowie had said had been about her... it had been all about _him!_ It was never about her not wanting Orlando or being mad at him for what had happened; it had been all about making things easier for him. And in return, he had been nothing but a stupid, idiotic, selfish bastard that could barely handle the guilt that now coiled inside him.

Could he be any blinder? Suddenly, all that Zowie had gone through because of him dawned on Orlando, feeling like a slap on his face. Over and over he had blinded himself, taking her for granted, and never taking into consideration all that she had risked and that she had experienced just to be with him, let alone to be his girlfriend.

That was the thought that spurred him to his feet. He couldn't sit around and wait for a sign that would most likely _not_ come, he had to find it out himself. Yes, perhaps Zowie had left him that voicemail hours and hours ago, but Orlando just couldn't sit there and do nothing while there was the tiniest glimmer of hope that he might still catch her at her hotel before she put that silly plan to practice. Grabbing his keys from the small coffee table over which he and Zowie had shared many conversations, Orlando bolted out of his trailer, not bothering to answer the questions people shot at him as he ran past them, solely focused on getting to his car and out of the studios as soon as possible.

Many shocked glances followed Orlando due to his hasty departure, but he didn't notice any of them as he jumped into his car and drove away, willing to run over the paparazzi camped out there for all that they had brought upon him and Zowie. Hadn't they been hungry for any news, Matt's story wouldn't have mattered and it would have never made it to the front cover. He still didn't, though, although he _did_ shoot them some menacing glances as he drove past, hoping that discouraged them from following him.

As he drove, a dark cloud cast a shadow over him. Were the paparazzi the only ones to blame for everything? All of a sudden, Orlando felt the guilt on his shoulders becoming heavier. The only reason why there was interest in Zowie was because she was related to him, and Orlando couldn't remember the last time he had been able to live through a relationship without people trying to find out everything about it. He hadn't given it much importance before; with Beth, in fact, it was _her_ who had made a point of being seen together as much as possible. But Zowie was different and, above all, she had different needs; needs he had blatantly stepped over without even realising. And then he had accused her of enjoying being miserable… he winced at the thought.

In his quest for selfish happiness, Orlando now realised he had overlooked many, many things Zowie had obviously required for him. She had never asked a single thing from him, simply being contented by being by his side, by spending time with him, that Orlando had taken her for granted. But while she gave everything, what had _he_ given her in return? It wasn't about physical things that she might need for one thing or the other – it was the emotional support that someone recovering from a severe addiction needed, and that he had failed to supply.

What Zowie was trying to do, recover from her addiction to drugs, was something she couldn't do on her own. She had still tried nonetheless, and although Orlando had promised to be there, there were many things he had missed. Why else would Zowie feel the need to keep him in the dark about Matt, if she hadn't thought he would be mad at her? And as a matter of fact, he _had_ been mad when finding out Zowie had lied to him. She hadn't needed to be scolded or to fight over what she had done; she had needed his support, and Orlando had failed to give her that much.

And what about the past, about their time in New Zealand? If there was one person to blame for Zowie's addiction, that was him. It was his careless actions what had depressed her so much, what had ruined her hopes and dreams of a perfect, romantic first time and what had led her by the hand down a path of dependence.

 

_The first flush of youth was upon you when our eyes first met  
And I knew that to you and into your life I had to get_

_I felt light-headed at the touch of this stranger's hand  
An assault my defences systematically failed to withstand_

He had played with her all along, Orlando realised, his heart lurching with pain. Back in the very beginning, he had led Zowie on to believe that there might be something between them that he had cruelly taken back later on, only to leave her desperate to have it back. But it had been so hard to stop himself from feeling the way he felt about Zowie! Not long ago Orlando had realised that he had always felt for her the same way as he did now, the only difference being he now acknowledged his emotions in a way he had refused to do in the past. But his constant coming and going, his indecision in the early days, they all had led to this very moment.

 

 _'Cos you came at a time_  
_When the pursuit of one true love in which to fall_  
 _Was the be all and end all_

_Love is only a feeling_   
_(Drifting away)_   
_When I'm in your arms I start believing_   
_(It's here to stay)_

And what about him meeting her again? It had only taken him seeing Zowie one more time to realise what he had been hiding all along. She was true and honest and she understood him in a way Beth had never been able to, for Zowie had known him when he was an absolute nobody with nothing else but dreams and hopes and a will to make everything right in a huge production. She had never wanted the actor like Beth had. Zowie had always wanted Orlando, the man, the _real_ man she had met years ago, and that honesty had been something that had captured his heart the moment he had seen both Zowie and Beth together in action. He had wanted someone true, and Zowie had been precisely that. He now realised how selfish he had been about that as well. Zowie gave him something _he_ needed, but what about what _she_ needed? Orlando had fed on her honesty and openness, offering her what in return? Nothing. He had only assumed she would be there, that what they shared would always be there.

 

 _The state of elation that this unison of hearts achieved_  
_I had seen, I had touched, I had tasted and I truly believed_  
 _That the light of my life_  
 _Would tear a hole right through each cloud that scudded by_  
 _Just to beam on you and I_

Just like he had imagined that his sole presence would magically vanish all her issues without delving deeper into them. How blind he had been! He should have pushed her, should have asked for answers. But he hadn't, and now was paying the price for being so blind. Zowie could very well leave without him being able to do anything about it, and his heart froze in his chest at that.

Le Petit Riad was only ten minutes away from the studios, and Orlando had the feeling he closed that distance in far less time than necessary, surely breaking more than one or two Moroccan traffic laws in the meantime. He barely took the time to park his car, leaving it at the first spot available before jumping out, heart thumping inside him with dread and hope. The voicemail had been recorded hours ago, around lunch time, and it was already dark now. Orlando tried to silence the voice inside him that screamed that it was too late, that Zowie couldn't possibly be there, choosing to rely instead on the one that kept pushing him forward, begging him to fight until the very last minute to have her back. If she was still at the hotel, then Orlando would do anything to keep her in Morocco. _Anything._ No questions asked.

The lady sitting behind the front desk looked up startled when Orlando roughly opened the door with far more strength than necessary, almost banging it against the wall. Not that he noticed any of it, though; as he made his way to the woman, his eyes scanned the reception looking for any sign of the person he was looking for. There was no sign of her, though, and a bitter taste filled his mouth.

“Can I help you?” The black haired woman asked, the English words carrying nothing but the slightest native accent.

“I'm looking for Zowie Hart. She checked in yesterday. Is she here?”

His voice shook with both his bated breath and the fear that now gripped at him with a steely force, and his eyes urged the woman to answer. She looked puzzled for a second, frowning slightly before turning to the computer at her side.

“What is her name again, please?” Orlando repeated Zowie's name, impatience dripping from his every word and his every action as the woman typed the name and searched in her computer for any useful information. Hope and terror led a raging battle inside him, and Orlando could feel his stomach tightening with apprehension as the woman shook her head if only slightly. “I'm very sorry.” She said. “But Ms. Hart checked out early this morning.”

Those simple words took over Orlando with the power a lightning hitting him straight in the heart. His knees wavered dangerously and his skin, cold and clammy one minute, turned hot and sweaty the next, only to hit frigid lows once again. It couldn't be happening! Desperate, he asked.

“Did she say anything? Did she mention where she was going to, what she planned to do?”

“I'm very sorry.” The woman said. “But I wasn't here this morning. I have the afternoon shift.”

For a second, there was nothing Orlando wanted more than to unleash his fury, terror, and the full power of his conflicted emotions on that woman that eyed him warily with big, dark eyes. But he managed to control himself in the very last minute, though. He had already ruined things with Zowie for making a big deal about things that didn't deserve it, he wasn't going to blow any chance he had of finding any piece of information just because of his temper.

“Is there anyone I can talk to? Anyone who could have seen her, talked to her?”

The woman nodded and, if anything, it managed to boost his hope some.

“You can talk to Ahmed, he works the morning shift from Mondays to Saturdays.” She explained and then added. “Customers sometimes tell us about their plans, maybe Ms. Hart shared some of hers with him?”

Orlando had the same doubts. Had Zowie told Ahmed anything? If she hadn't told him what she planned to do until it was done, considering the time she had checked out and the time she had left him that voicemail, what made him think that he had talked about it with a complete stranger? Orlando clung to that hope, though; if Zowie had mentioned anything, _anything_ that might be of use, then he would at least have a hint of what she planned to do.

He vaguely remembered thanking the woman and saying goodbye to her, just like the drive home was a blurry image in his mind, but once Orlando sat on that same couch he and Zowie had shared so many moments together, he realised he couldn't let go. Something inside him compelled him to leave the house once again, to do something, go somewhere, but where to start? He had absolutely no idea what Zowie planned to do. He had half a mind of driving to Rabat, Morocco's capital, even if it was over three hundred miles away from Ouarzazate, for he knew that city would be the starting point of anything Zowie had in mind, especially if that involved leaving the country.

But where would he find information there? Could he ask at every desk of every airline at the airport for an information they surely wouldn't give him? He thought of calling Zowie's parents in New Zealand, but something told him that wasn't what Zowie had in mind. She hadn't even been too sure about visiting them as she had promised, he didn't imagine she would choose her home country to do whatever it was that she planned to do. Besides, he had to admit that the thought of her choosing her family over him did hurt more than he had imagined. Defeated, he hid his face in his hands. He had only one person he could ask for help, but he wasn't looking forward to it.

Geoff would have his heart on a platter.

 

Lyrics: **The Darkness** _, “Love Is Only A Feeling”_


	44. Chapter 44

**Chapter 44.**

 

_“I dreamed you had left my side_

_No warmth, not even pride remained_

_And even though you needed me_

_It was clear that I could not do a thing for you”_

_**Pink Floyd – A Great Day For Freedom** _

 

He would most likely be late for work, but that morning, there were far more important matters in Orlando's mind than making a movie.

He had barely slept at all the night before, his mind replaying every moment he had spent with Zowie and taking a perverse pleasure on highlighting all the things that he had done wrong. From the very beginning, Orlando had handled it all the wrong way: back in New Zealand he had showed her interest just to take it away, leaving her confused, and then had stolen a moment that should have been perfect for her and couldn't even remember it. What kind of a bastard did that make him, when doing precisely that had pushed her to do drugs in order to conceal her pain? And then, when William and Noemie had divorced, Orlando had never had the courage to push Zowie into telling him more, into opening up and sharing what truly bothered her instead of pretending everything was alright when it wasn't.

However, none of that rivalled with the feeling of shame that coursed Orlando every time his thoughts returned to the awful way he had behaved the last time they had seen each other. Zowie had been trying to make things right for them, and all he had been interested on was having her with him for purely selfish reasons. Orlando wanted to wake up next to her because he loved the feeling of her in his arms, the tranquillity he felt when he was with her but, what about her? Had Zowie ever felt the same way? He had never asked. He had simply demanded, pushing her in the wrong direction. The thought that his behaviour might have been what had ultimately pushed Zowie away was like a knife twisting viciously in his heart.

Not that the conversation he had had with Geoff over the phone the night before was any better, of course.

Orlando had been right about one thing: Geoff wanted his head on a platter. Once Orlando had relayed the information on Zowie’s message, and then reluctantly admitted having had an argument with her, Geoff had proceeded to tell him in very clear terms what he thought of him.

_“You're an idiot... you're a complete idiot! I knew something was wrong last night. I blamed it on her being fired but no... it had to be you. It's always you, Orlando, as far as Zowie is concerned. You're the worst thing that ever happen to her!”_

And as sad as the thought was, Orlando had to admit that, even when led by anger, frustration and fear, Geoff was right. He _was_ the worst thing to ever happen to Zowie, as a quick revision of their shared past proved. Knowing it, however, didn't make it any easier. It made his pain and shame greater, but also made his determination to find Zowie and make things better all the more powerful. Knowing he was responsible for what she had done felt like a red hot knife twisting in his heart without mercy.

The first thing Orlando noticed when nearing Le Petit Riad, was the tall man standing next to his car by the hotel's door, a sight that sent a wave of uneasiness all over him. Geoff. He was staring straight at him and Orlando felt his heart thumping in his chest. William might not be around to defend Zowie – although, deep down inside, Orlando considered he deserved every single thing her dad could do to him – Geoff had made a point of taking the other man's place with great diligence. Now he had to face him, for no matter the outcome, he deserved it. The dread that pooled inside him, however, did nothing to help.

After the understandable animosity he and Geoff had shared over the phone the previous night, Orlando braced himself for anything as he exited the car. He wasn't looking forward to this meeting, but for Zowie’s sake… he’d do it.

Leaning against his car in a deceivingly relaxed posture, Geoff stared as Orlando approached him, uneasiness emanating from each and every one of his movements. His hair was a mess and visible signs of tension etched his features, but none of that affected Geoff the least. That man had made a mistake; a very big and serious mistake, and he was about to pay for it.

Now he could see what William had meant four years ago, when he had tried everything within his reach to keep Zowie away from Orlando. William had seen something in that potential bond that no one else had, and now had been proved right. Yet, no matter how angry, frustrated or truly terrified Geoff could feel, there was one fact that was undeniably and, much to his dismay, impossibly true: Orlando wasn't a bad guy. Essentially, he never meant harm to those around him, but still, he had managed to hurt the one person who should have never found herself in the receiving end of that behaviour: Zowie.

He could understand William now. It wasn't Orlando he had been afraid of… it had been Zowie all along.

His friend had feared she would obsess over the young actor in a way that would consume her heart and soul, and he had been right. Zowie had followed her heart and followed Orlando, ultimately bringing herself to a situation that had pushed her into running away from him.

What was it that she planned to do? Geoff couldn't help but wonder if anything he had said had played a part in her decision. And if that was the case, why hadn't she told him anything? A weight fell on his heart then. What if she blamed him for everything? After all, it had been Geoff who had thought Orlando would be good to her, that having him around would help her recovery, just to have it all blowing up in his face. As good as his intentions were, knowing that his actions had ultimately led to this was a thought he could barely begin to understand, for the implications and the guilt he felt were enormous. That was why he took it against Orlando. Unfair, yes, but the only way Geoff could deal with the uncertainty he felt inside him.

He didn't make any concessions. When Orlando approached him, Geoff barely greeted him with a curt nod before pushing himself off of his car and heading towards the Riad's reception, the heavy, guilt-laden steps of the young actor following him suit. Just feeling him so close did nothing but increase his pain, his anger, and his own guilt, which was never a good combination. In that moment, all Geoff could think of Orlando was that he was the kind of man heartless enough to punish a person when they didn’t immediately give in to his demands. A spoiled brat, in short. He could have been that way with anyone and Geoff wouldn't have cared, but Orlando had played it wrong. He had turned it against Zowie, and that was something Geoff couldn't allow. If what _he_ had done ended up hurting Zowie in any way, then there wouldn't be a single place where Orlando could find peace or hide from him. He would make sure of that.

Geoff didn't know whether he and Orlando sent off hostile vibes or if the animosity around them was so visible, but the moment the young man at the front desk looked up at them and his customary polite smile wavered if only slightly, he knew they didn't appear as the usual clients. The smile came back, though, and when they reached the desk, his dark eyes let nothing on of how he felt.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?”

Orlando was about to speak, but when Geoff pressed his palms on the desk, he decided against it. The older man wasted no time on formalities, yet managed to keep a polite tone Orlando doubted he could direct at him in that instant.

“Are you Ahmed?” Geoff asked and although a dubious look crossed the man's eyes, he still nodded, a wary glow in his eyes. “A customer left yesterday morning during your shift. Her name is Zowie Hart.”

In a scene that was very much a repetition of the one he had gone through the previous afternoon, Orlando watched impatiently as Ahmed typed Zowie's name on the computer and then gave a soft nod.

“Yes, she does appear in our records. She checked out around ten a.m.”

“Good. So she left during your shift, right?” Ahmed nodded again, and Orlando could see in his eyes that he questioned himself where all of that might be going to. “Do you remember her? Did she mention anything about what she planned to do next, where she was going?”

Ahmed looked thoughtful for a second before he turned to the computer once again, as if reading the information there could spark some memory in him. It seemingly worked, for his eyebrows suddenly shot up and his quick nods filled Orlando's heart with hope.

“Yes, I do remember her. She had checked in just a day before during my shift too.”

“Did she mention anything?” Orlando urged him, seeing as Ahmed seemingly had no hurry on answering Geoff's other questions. “Did she say what she wanted to do?”

When Ahmed shook his head, the disappointment and dread that filled both Geoff and Orlando was almost palpable.

“Sadly, no. Ms. Hart didn't say anything. It did surprise me how quiet she was, though. Usually our customers are a lot more... outspoken.” Ahmed said after a little hesitation, as if he couldn't find the right word. “But Ms. Hart only said that she thought the hotel was very beautiful and then asked me to call her a taxi. She waited here for a short while and then she was gone. That's all.”

“Are you sure you don't remember anything else?” Geoff asked, and Orlando could see that behind his façade, he was feeling the exact same desperation that filled every inch of him. “Seeing a plane ticket in her hand, a map, her talking to someone over the phone... anything?”

Once again, Ahmed peered at the computer.

“Not while she was here, but she was indeed charged for an international phone call made from her room, according to what I can see here.”

At that, Orlando imitated Geoff's posture. They shared a quick look, the animosity between them gone and replaced by that light of hope that Ahmed had just offered them. He knew what Geoff was thinking: if they could find out who she had talked to, then they could easily find out where she had gone.

“Do you still have the number?” Orlando asked, and suddenly, he was very aware of the cell phone in his jeans pocket. Zowie hadn't had one where they could contact her, but if they had another number they could try, then they might get something out of it.

“We don't keep track of them. We try to give our customers the privacy they need.” Ahmed explained, and although it did make a lot of sense, in that instant, nothing was as reasonable to Orlando and Geoff as finding Zowie.

Once again, defeat cloaked them with its dark veil. Guilt spiralled inside them when they realised all the things they had done wrong with Zowie, all the things they should have done and that they hadn't, for whatever reason. She had left leaving nothing but a voice mail behind, and they had no means to locate her now, no matter how hard they tried.

“Is any of you Mr... Grant?” Ahmed asked, tearing them out of the haze of pain that surrounded them. Puzzled, Geoff looked at him.

“I'm Geoff Grant, why?”

Ahmed produced a folded piece of paper, placing it on the desk.

“Ms. Hart left this for you.”

Geoff blinked as he stared rather stupidly at the paper on the dark desk. A note for him? Realisation hit him. Zowie had known all along that Geoff would try to find her, and the thought touched his heart in a way that both made him proud and that filled with utter grief. It prided him that Zowie trusted him enough to know he wouldn't settle for Orlando's explanation of things alone, but it also pained him beyond belief knowing that this was the only piece of Zowie that he had left. He had always been close to her, but the time they had spent together lately had cemented their bond incredibly. She was almost like a daughter to him, and the feelings choked him up.

Retrieving the note with a shaky hand and opening it, his eyes skimmed over the Riad's logo to find Zowie's familiar handwriting there.

_“Geoff:_

_thank you. Thank you for everything that you've done for me. You were there when no one else was, when I didn't know how to ask for help from other people. You showed me the way, you were patient with me, you understood each and every one of my reasons even though you didn't share them. I lied to you and still you were willing to understand. I don't deserve a friend like you, but knowing you're there makes me feel a lot safer._

_I know what you're thinking: that this is all Orlando's fault. It's not. It's no one's fault. It's just that what you said to me last night suddenly made more sense that you probably realised, and I understood what I had to do. You said things will only be alright if I am alright, and that's exactly what I'm doing. This is something I should have done a long time ago. I want to be me again, Geoff, and I'm never going to do that if I hide behind you or Orlando. I hope you understand._

_Love,_

_Zowie.”_

Geoff had to blink the tears away as his worse fears came true. It was him who had driven Zowie away. Orlando was involved, certainly, but something Geoff had said was what had triggered this decision in her. Guilt pushed down on him so heavily, it felt as if he carried the entire weight of the world on his shoulders. He had tried everything within his power to help Zowie, only to ruin it at the end.

At that, his fearful eyes rose to meet Orlando's. His dark eyes shone with intrigue and the tiniest light of hope, as if he expected Geoff could tell him something that would make his pain lessen. But Geoff couldn't speak those words. He had treated Orlando so badly, he simply couldn't stand before him now and admit that it was him who had pushed Zowie away. She had begged him not to put the blame on Orlando, but his own guilty conscience pushed Geoff into doing exactly that. Slipping the note in his back pocket, he vowed to himself that Orlando would never see it while he was alive.

“What does it say?” Orlando asked, the hope in his eyes also colouring his voice.

Geoff put on a stern face.

“Goodbye.” He lied, although the action didn't bring any relief to his pain; it only increased his shame. “She wanted to say goodbye. Zowie knew I'd come here eventually.”

The venom in the man's words and the certainty they carried brought Orlando closer to tears that he had been in a long time. It was final. Upon finding that note, Orlando had almost hoped that even if Zowie was mad at him, she could confide in Geoff enough to give them a sign as to where to look for her, but that wasn't the case. Zowie was gone and they had no means to find her, and the finality of it robbed him of his breath as his heart thundered in his chest. Vaguely, he wondered if that was how Zowie felt every time she was about to have a panic attack, because it was horrible.

When he spoke, his voice carried every bit of the helplessness he felt in his heart.

“What now?”

Something in his simple question must have upset Geoff enormously, for he turned to him with a look that would have frozen a weaker man with terror.

“Now you pray, Orlando.” Geoff hissed. “Pray that nothing happens to her and that we soon find out where she is, because if we don't and something bad happens to her, your life won't be long enough to regret it.”

He was being horribly unfair and he knew it, but in that instant, Geoff was completely incapable of dealing with his own grief and shame, let alone think of Orlando’s. Exactly as Zowie had asked him not to, he mused before pushing the thought away. In the end, it was all Orlando's fault, wasn't it? After all, hadn't Zowie had that argument with him, then nothing of what Geoff had said would have made any difference, right?

Orlando could do nothing but stare at him as Geoff stalked out of the hotel, anger clinging to him like a magnetic aura as he did. He was shocked at his words, yes, but once that died down, the other feelings that burnt in the background took precedence. It was over. Zowie had left and they had no hint as to where to first look for her at all. But what mattered Orlando the most, it was all his doing.


	45. Epilogue

**Epilogue.**

 

Orlando didn't remember leaving the hotel or how he made it to the studios in once piece; all he could recall of that day as he stared at the night cloaking his house was how he had sat alone in his trailer, head in his hands as desperate tears ran down his cheeks.

He had ruined it all. In a moment when everyone wanted a piece of him, when he was, according to certain magazines, the most sought-after bachelor, when everyone wanted to be his friend or be seen with him, Zowie had been the one real thing in his life. She had never cared about his fame. After all, hadn't she first fallen in love with him when he was a big nobody fresh out of drama school? When he had doubted his abilities to lead a film, Zowie had been there to put everything into perspective and help him through. And what had he done in return?

He had pushed her. He had selfishly put himself first, and had never catered to those obvious needs she had. She had been wearing her heart on her sleeve, and Orlando had crushed it, accusing her of not wanting to fight for their relationship, when all Zowie had wanted to do was keep it safe. He had accused her of blaming him for what had happened, when he had never understood that she put all the blame on herself. How could Zowie still love him after all that? Orlando didn't know.

He had taken Zowie for granted. He had thought their love was there to stay, that she would always be there no matter how obnoxiously he acted, but now he knew how wrong he had been. He had ruined it all. But as that realisation filled him, determination also rose inside him. That story wasn't over. That wasn't the end for him and Zowie, and it didn't matter how long it took him or what he had to do, he would find her and beg for forgiveness even if he had to travel the entire world to find her. This time it would be him who put everything on hold for her. For their love.

And he wouldn't fail, no matter what.

 

 _Love is only a feeling_  
(Drifting away)  
And we've got to stop ourselves believing  
(It's here to stay)  
'Cos love is only a feeling  
Anyway. 

 

**THE END**

 

**Author's Note:**

> You can check the story's playlist by clicking [here.](https://open.spotify.com/user/11144079858/playlist/0YXVcq2bSveOok6akeZh6N?si=1pTdIm-6QnWW-lURSP1zxA)


End file.
